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#channelling my inner him right now
birdthatisbored · 1 year
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Jesus rose from the dead after 3 days *once* but Doug Eiffel did it like a hundred times *and* he went bald because of it. So who's God's real specialest little boy huh? Not J boy that's for sure
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thatswhatsushesaid · 2 years
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man you guys I have just made myself SO MAD about how literally everyone treats lan xichen after jin guangyao's death in the guanyin temple confrontation.
just starting with nhs's abject refusal to be transparent about whether jgy was or was not attempting to attack him from behind:
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then just having to sit here with the growing, dreadful certainty that nhs did something truly heinous to the body of jgy's mother as part of his revenge quest--meng shi, who was a genuinely innocent person:
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and then this final question that he asks himself out loud while the rest of the cast of characters are still hovering around, which no one answers, of course, because no one else can:
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(plot twist: or can they??? put a pin in that for now)
but this is the moment that galls me the most. when lan qiren shows up and sees both lwj and lxc not being their usual peerless jade selves, he rounds on lxc, of course and says this:
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I don't know, lan-xiansheng, what in the fucking world do you think is wrong with your oldest nephew, who you single-handedly raised, maybe read the fucking room for five seconds and figure it out?? "lan xichen's face was full of an unspeakable grief," god this would be a really great moment for lan wangji to come to his brother's side to provide some support of some kind, even if he's not great with these kinds of displays, because lxc cared for lwj throughout his seclusion--oh, wait, what's that? he and wwx have just fucked off entirely??
[edited to add: @leatherbookmark pointed out that lqr’s response here may be a translation issue!! i retract much of my salt about lqr here… but god, lxc is still so devastated. he’s grief-stricken.]
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(lan jingyi knows what's good, don't bring up that guy around lqr)
but uhhhhh sure wangji, your brother is clearly /gestures, like that, go ahead and bail.
this bit from the next chapter is what really grinds my gears tho, because I somehow forgot that wangxian's decision to withhold such crucial information back from lxc during the temple was 1) so fucking overt, and 2) explicitly confirms that they did not want to share information with lxc that would make him feel more sympathetic towards jgy:
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...are you kidding me right now!! "even now I still don't think we should tell him" + "each could only deal with their own troubles... comfort was useless. it'd all be in vain"
/shoves both of you jerks into a mud puddle
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raynewolferune · 5 months
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Meta Jazz, the Arkham Intern Therapist Pt1
Update 5/16/2024: Congrats guys, gals, and others! You have planted the seeds and they have grown. Today I wrote another 46 pages on this story (the first section was only 9 pages ya'll). I'm working on splitting it up into smaller sections so I can post it now because tumblr said no to doing it as one piece. I'll be using the tag #Meta Jazz Arkham Intern Therapist if you want to follow it.
Original Note: I'm going to go ahead and apologize for how OOC Bane is in this. It originally was Joker but I couldn't see Jazz tolerating his proximity for more than a single millisecond so Bane it is.
~*~*~
The hardest thing about being a Meta in Gotham was responding appropriately during a Rouge's attack, Jazz mused to herself. Or perhaps that was just the hardest part about being a Meta intern at Arkham while studying psychology at Gotham University. Or maybe it was just her, she considered watching the guards and Dr. Rylie whom she'd been shadowing for the past 2 weeks wide eyed, pale, and shaking as theybstared at Bane behind her. It must just be her, Jazz decided, newbie guard Kyle Jennings was definitely a Meta after all. She should probably give him some tips on hiding his enhanced strength considering how often he broke mugs, door handles, and other delicate items used in daily life.
"Weapons down or I'll snap her skinny little neck." Bane growled out, shaking her slightly for emphasis. She very much doubted that. Liminials were built different than the standard Meta, stronger, faster, better endurance, and senses even if they could mostly appear to be standard humans on the outside.  As such, their bones and muscles were much were much denser than regular humans or even Meta humans. Technically, she could be considered "invulnerable" much like the Kryptonians are.
"Back up! Let him through!" Dr. Rylie  shouted at the guards. "She's my student! Let him through!" His voice was higher pitched than she could recall hearing it before.
Ah. That was panic.
Jazz sighed involuntarily and glanced over her shoulder at Bane. Why the man had grabbed the only person close to his own height nearby was a mystery to her - no, nevermind, he clearly meant to use her as a shield - but it made looking him in the eye more difficult than necessary.
"Mr. Bane, remove your hands from my person, please." Jazz stated calmly, channeling what Danny called her inner mom as she spoke. "I will give you to one to comply."
Bane looked stunned for a moment then laughed.
"Five."
The laughing continued. Jazz could sense a stir of uncertainty through her colleagues as they looked on.
"Four."
"Did you really think that would work?" Bane snorted out, arms tensing more around her.
"Three." She continued, indifferent to his words from her experiences raising her brother. Once the count down starts you mustn't respond to anything the kids do or say until they comply or the count is done.
"What cab you even do if I don't?" Bane asked darkly breathing directly in her ear. She kept her face expressionless despite the urge to express disgust.
"Two."
"Jasmine..."  Kyle whispered halfway across the hall from her looking on with a pained and horrified expression. Gun tilting towards the floor. Sloppy.
"One." She finished and Bane gave a derisive snort.
Then she was moving. Hauling the enormous man up and over her shoulder using the arm that had been wrapped around her neck. Bane hit the cold tile hard enough that the tiles, subfloor, structural supports, and part of the concrete foundation buckled beneath him. His shoulder popped out of joint, his wrist cracked - a hairline fracture by the sound of it -  and his breath was punched out of him from the force of impact. She released his arm as soon as his was embedded in the tiles and moved forward. Kneeling over him, support most of her weight on her left foot resting on the broken ground, her right knees pressed firmly across his throat without supporting any of her weight. The position put more strain on her muscles than she would've liked but at least Bane couldn't risk fighting back without crushing his own neck in the process. He could hardly throw her while flat on his back with a mangled arm.
"Now," Jazz began, looking directly into the behemoth's pained eyes. "Do you know what you've done wrong?" She asked like she would have done with Danny as a child.
"Yes, Ma'am." Bane choked out. Jazz heard movement and murmuring behind her. She didn't turn to look.
"What did you do wrong?" She asked. It was important to make sure children correctly understood why they were in trouble after all. There was a long pause as Bane appeared to cast around for the exact right answer as if he feared getting it wrong. A bad habit Danny still uses as well, Jazz thought to herself.
"I tried to hold you hostage," He choked out in a rush, words tumbling over one another as he tried to get them all out. "I scared you coworkers and it was very disrespectful."
So he'd gone for the grab-bag response. It wasn't wrong per sey but it did indicate a past history of abuse. The type of answer given by someone who expected to be harmed or ignored if they gave the "wrong" answer. Danny tended to use that method also and their parents had always been negligent at best.
"And are you going to do it again?" She asked giving him a Look as she did. Bane's eyes widened and he tried to frantically shake his head as much as possible with the pressure on his neck.
"No, Ma'am." He promised fervently.
"Alright then," Jazz said giving him a warm smile. She gestured vaguely towards the guards without turning to look at them. "Kyle here is going to take you to see the nurse and then back to your room then. I'm sure you'll behave for him?"
"Yes, Ma'am. I'll behave." Bane said. Jazz stood slowly asking sure not to put any additional pressure on his neck as she did. Kyle came and stood next to her as the giant of a man slowly pulled himself to his feet then led him away with 5 other guards.
Jazz heaved a sigh. Well, time to find out whether or not she could play all that off as normal, non-Meta human behavior.
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hoshigray · 3 months
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HII idk if u already did this but can u do first time with college guy nanami plz? ^-^
𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: omg stop, this is perfect !! also happy early bday to me & my bday twin/hubby, nanamin, mwah
⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Nanami x afab! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern au! college juniors - first time; virginity loss - fingering (f! receiving) - kissing; making out - nipple sucking - missionary position - protected sex - pet names (angel, baby, honey, love) - nanami is so soft and gentle w/ you <333 - mention of tears and pain.
⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1k
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“Shit…you feel okay, baby?”
“Hahhh, yes, Ken…Mmmm, please, keep going…”
Nanami should’ve known something was fishy the moment his partner asked to come over to his apartment to study in the middle of a Friday night — the weekend had just started, and you wanted to work with him at his place? No way…But he voices no complaints whatsoever. 
You lay on his bed, the bedroom lights dimmed and emphasizing the skin of both you and Nanami’s nude bodies. Your boyfriend above you, kissing your forehead as his left hand is busy fingering your bare chasm and coating your labia with the lube he applied on his fingers. You moan sweetly at his touch, his digits nestling between your folds, and gasping at the slow insertion of his middle finger. Your inner channel clamps onto it, twitching around it as his right hand kneads the flesh of your inner thigh to soothe you.
Nanami presses his forehead to yours after placing kisses on your hot cheek. “Shhh, it’s okay, angel,” your sobs quiet down with his words, wailing softly at the curl of his middle finger scraping your velvety texture. “I’m right here…”
Tonight was significant, not just for him but for you too. Two virgins came together for a night of passion and union; however, Nanami didn’t want to ruin this moment just for his pleasure. He’s sharing this with you and wanted everything orchestrated perfectly for your comfort. You were his top priority above anything else, so he wanted you to be content.
Kisses trail down from your cheek and chin, and his lips lick around your nipple as he sucks the bud in, his tongue lapping around it makes you jerk along the rub of his finger. 
“Ahaaah, oh God,” you throw your head back. “Kento, I–Mmmph…I want it, please…”
He releases your nipple with a pull of his lips before peering into your eyes, chocolate orbs scanning your expression with sincerity. “You sure? I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Yes, I’m ready,” you nod and spread your legs further, exhaling once he removes his middle finger from your soaking slit. “I know you’d never hurt me, Ken.”
Nanami can’t fight the smile creeping on his face as he situates himself, kissing you tenderly while he positions his erect cock to you, sheathed with a rubber. 
The tip of his length greets you, pushing itself lightly to the very entrance of your vagina. The initial pain makes itself known in seconds, having you whine into his mouth and your body involuntarily flinching. Yet, Nanami is there to relax you. “It’s okay,” he reminds you. “Relax your body; don’t be tense, baby. Breathe.”
A piece of advice you know would be beneficial so you construct a pattern to breathe adequately. And he watches every inhale and exhale, allowing you to ready yourself with every intake of air and pushing his tip further as you expel. Biting on your bottom lip, hands gripping the sheets, eyes watering from your shut eyelids—this experience was propelling you to suffocate in the sensation alone. And he hasn’t even put the cockhead in yet…
But when he does, it’s a revelation to the deepest part of your soul. You arch to the addition and gasp with Nanami, a foreign feeling of your hole being stretched. You were rigid, alarmed to take another breath; trembles came up your legs to your shoulders, and your toes locked to a curl. 
“You okay?” You nod ever-so-slowly, breathing with an agape mouth. “Hnnmm, good…Going to start moving now.”
His hips go excruciatingly sluggish, and leisure strokes drive his dick further into your warm channel, leaving the boy moaning with flattened lips and trenched brows. Your tightness feels snug to him, gripping nicely around his cock as if he could melt. And your quiet shrieks sound so cute, and he keeps coaxing you with every inch taken until his golden pubes meet yours.
Cautious strokes begin, and your voice is dialed to a higher volume. Hands find their way around Nanami’s neck, same with your legs coming around his waist. His movements are nothing harsh or rushed; they’re gentle and patient, permitting you to adjust to him and his body being one with yours. 
“Ohhh, hoooh, Kentoo,” you whimper in the air between you two. “Oh God—Ahhaa!!” The tip grazes your walls to the point of your nerves spiking. “Yesss, yeeeess…!”
“Hnnmm…Haaahh, fuck,” he curses to himself, his nose brushing yours. “You feel so good, honey…” He brings his face in for another kiss, this one more lustful than the last yet just as loving and secure. Hips grow confidence, thrusts pounding to you more selfishly while maintaining a moderate pace. He drinks your moans with his mouth, shivers slithering up his spine with the clasp of your cunt. 
The pain from before is long gone, exchanged with pleasure now that your lower region is accustomed to the commotion. The poke to your walls is sudden yet euphoric, same with the stretch of your entrance while he rubs on your texture and reaches in places you never imagined. It’s so good; it feels so fucking good!
“—Mmahhh, Kent—Toooh!” You break the kiss, yet Nanami keeps the closeness intimate with his cheek to yours. “OhhmyGod, right there! Right…Hmmm, maah!!” Nails dig to the skin of his back, your pitch gets higher and higher, and your awaited climax awards you. 
 Your tender walls flutter with the arrival of your orgasm, shrieking as your figure sinks to the pleasure as shocks of your crescendo flourish. And Nanami continues to rut into you until his drive comes to an end, groaning to your ear as he jerks and his cock spurts his load into the condom. The cling of you on him pulls him in, and you hold him close until both your heaving bodies are tranquil.
He then straightens to examine you, noticing the tear that dared leave your eyes. And as the benevolent boyfriend you fell in love with, he brushes his thumb on your cheek to wipe. “Thank you,” you giggle.
And he smiles back. “So beautiful, love.”
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© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ dividers by @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more.
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reidsworld · 24 days
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giving old man!logan head in the limo has me feral. i just know theres a dirty mouth on that man
Warnings… fem!reader, smuttt, praise/degradation, oral sex (m receiving), no use of y/n, pet names (baby, slut), this is VILEE (rlly channeled my inner freak), not proofread lol (icl i wrote this on my phone). — you are responsible for the content you consume, if you are not comfortable with any of these warnings or are a minor, DNI!!!
Mars speaks… old man logan has me in a CHOKEHOLDD
Masterlist | Divider from @/saradika-graphics
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You had been teasing Logan all night, testing the limits of his patience with every sly smile, every light touch, every whispered innuendo in his ear. The tension had built between you like a fire ready to ignite, and you knew exactly what you were doing.
Logan’s gaze was dark, his jaw clenched as he shifted in his seat beside you. Finally, with a low, frustrated growl, he turned to you, his eyes blazing. “Fine,” he muttered, voice rough, low, “you wanna act like a little slut, I’ll treat you like one.”
That was how you ended up in the back of his limo, sliding down between his legs, your mouth leaving a trail of kisses along his chest, moving lower…
His voice was a rasp, barely more than a breath as he whispered, “Don’t stop.”
Your trailed your hands over the bulge in his pants, making swift work of pulling them down with his boxers, freeing his achingly hard cock.
While it wasn’t overly long— certainly not a length to be ashamed about— it was thick. His cock had a long vein running down the underside with many smaller veins scattered across it. It twitched desperately in his lap, the sensitive red tip oozing pre-cum.
“Holy shit…”
He let out a low chuckle at your words, clicking his tongue at you, “come on, get to work baby.”
You grinned up at him as you leaned forward, placing a gentle kiss on the tip, making him nearly growl.
“Don’t be a fuckin’ tease.”
Giggling at his words you smile innocently as run your tongue along the slit of his cock. He threw his head back, groaning, his fingers threading themselves through your hair with a tight but gentle grip.
You sunk your head lower, the head disappearing between your lips. He gazed down at you, “look so good with your lips wrapped around my cock like that.”
Your tongue swirled around his cock, cheeks hollowing, and his grip on your hair tightened, “don’t be shy, I know you can handle more.”
He used the grip in your hair to push you down lower. Saliva began to drip down his cock as he filled your mouth. You used it as lube for your hands which found their way to his shaft, slowly stroking and twisting what was not in your mouth.
“Yeah that’s more like it, knew you could do it.”
You moaned around him in response, the vibrations shooting right through his cock, causing his hips to buck. The tip hit the back of your throat making you gag and slightly choke at the protrusion. But this didn’t make him pull back, he was too desperate he couldn’t stop.
“Y’okay, baby?” he asked, slowing the rate his hand was moving your head but not stopping. You tried your best to give a nod. Once he got your confirmation, he stopped his hand movement, gently thrusting his hips upwards into your throat.
He had let you have control for long enough and now he was getting desperate, he couldn’t wait. He gently tapped on the top of your head causing you to look up at him.
“M’gonna fuck your throat now, baby,” he told you and you nodded, your hands moving to grip his thighs. He used his hand to push your head lower before thrusting up into your mouth. He began to build a steady rhythm, his cock going deeper into your throat with each movement.
“So good, haven’t gotten somethin’ this good in a long time ‘nd definitely not from someone as pretty as you,” he praised, his Canadian accent thickening as his pace increased. You moaned at the praise, breathing through your nose as he pushed in further.
Your knees began to ache from being on the limo floor. As he set a brutal pace, it became messier and messier. His cock was now covered in saliva, you makeup was a mess from the small tears that fell each time he hit the back of your throat.
“Y’look so pretty like this, my little slut,” he grunted out as his thumb moved to wipe one of the tears that fell. You smiled around him and looked him in the eyes. His head fell back at the sight around him.
After a few minutes, you could tell by his demeanour and ever-so-slightly slowing pace that he was getting tired. you moved your hands up to his while looking at him in the eyes. You gave him a gentle nod. His grip loosened from your head before he laid further back against the seat, long arms stretching out.
“Just need a little break, you keep going,” he chuckled, muttering something about being old.
You held onto the sides of his thighs as you quickly bobbed your head up and down his cock. You looked up at him, moaning at the sight. He looked so good— head fallen back, eyes closed, mouth slightly open, letting out little breaths.
This only spurred you on, taking him as deep as possible over and over again. His cock twitched at the back of your throat, a sure sign that he was getting close. You moved one hand to fondle his balls. You gently massaged them, scratching at his scrotum.
“Fuck, m’gonna cum,” he breathed out.
You picked up your pace as you felt his balls tighten in your hand. His thighs flexed and his hips bucked as he let out a lewd groan— almost growl of your name. Feeling his hot cum fill your throat, you pressed your head down, nose touching the hair at the base of his cock.
As he came down from his high, you pulled off him and looked up. He looked down at you with a lazy smirk on his face. He reached out his hand, helping you up from the floor before pulling you onto his lap.
His thumb wiped the half-dried tears from your face, his other hand snaking behind your neck and threading into your hair to pull you into a passionate kiss, his beard scratching at your chin.
As the two of you pulled apart, you grinned at him, “think you still have it in you to fuck me, old man?”
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Mars speaks… (again) sorry if this is a bit of a mess, it’s like 1:30 in the morning rn and i wrote this instead of sleeping. any and all feedback is always appreciated🫶
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thehighladywrites · 10 months
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That's your mother, but she's my wife first…
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⋆⭒˚。‎♡‧₊˚ pairing: cassian x fem!reader, the inner circle mentioned
⋆⭒˚。‎♡‧₊˚ summary: 18+ nsfw, mdni, light angst, stress, smut, fluff, praise, cassian channelling his inner general, reader being an absolute sweetheart who deserves everything good in life fr
⋆⭒˚。‎♡‧₊˚ amara’s note: okay so I don’t have any kids so some parts might be inaccurate but close your eyes please🤞🏽i have nothing else to say, i just wanna fuck cassian so bad rn...
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Spilled milk, mismatched socks, wailing babies.
Gods, what you wouldn’t do for a moment of peace…
Your children were usually calm, even when they were tumbling down stairs and running into tables, but during your youngest twin kids teething phase, they developed an interest for chewing on anything. Their outburst put your two other kids in distress, making it a difficult period for everyone.
In your attempt to keep your twins safe, you unintentionally became the evil mother for denying them the joy of chewing on concrete bricks, their father’s important books and a million other dangerous things that a child simply shouldn’t be putting in their mouth. 
They had been given enchanted teething toys made out of moonstone by their uncle Rhysand, but it didn’t keep them entertained at all. Safety was apparently too boring for them.
This morning was extra rough because Cassian had to leave early for a mission, leaving you with four kids. Although the two oldest ones, 7 and 12, could get themselves ready for the day, they still needed some help with some things. You were downright in a foul mood, feeling the weight of frustration and helplessness as the twins wailed and your oldest ones argued, all while trying to keep your emotions hidden.
“ You took the last pancake, Ves!” your son angrily sliced the remains of his food as your daughter, Vesna, looked at him with anger. “ I don’t care. I told you that I wanted it and you made no move for it, Therian. Blame yourself and be quicker next time.” she bickered back. They kept arguing about that stupid pancake as you picked your twins and moved to the rocking chair across the livingroom to sooth them. The kitchen seamlessly flowed into the living room, creating an open floor plan that allowed you to effortlessly monitor Vesna and Therian.
 “ It’s okay, babies. There we go, hush now.” But it didn’t work, they kept screaming and you were at your breaking point. You felt like the worst mom ever as you looked up, took a deep breath and blinked back tears. 
You almost yearned for Cassian's return, craving the comfort of your mate's presence amid the chaos. Yet, the nagging self-doubt held you back, hesitant to burden him with your distress and feeling a twinge of selfishness in the idea of asking him to cut short his mission. Despite the internal struggle, you chose to tough it out, convincing yourself that countless women had faced similar challenges, wondering if you could measure up to their strength.
Unbeknownst to you, you had been signaling Cassian with your feelings through the bond since this morning. He was already on his way back the moment your emotions reached him. He was just in time to hear your daughter’s frustration directed towards you, though none of you had felt his presence or heard him approach your home. 
“Mom, you're seriously failing at shutting them up. It's not dragon taming to handle two kids, and it shouldn't be this painful for the rest of us. How about you take them outside and only come back when you've figured out how to keep them quiet? Because none of us can stand the noise.” You looked at her stunned as a million thoughts went through your head. Guilt, anger and self-doubt took root inside you.
 Guilt, because was she right? Anger, because she shouldn’t have spoken to you like that ever. Self-doubt, because your fears and feelings about motherhood were spoken out loud. 
Your first-born had a sour expression on her face that quickly fell before she looked down at her plate sheepishly. Maybe she felt regret? But what made her react like that instantly? Your daughter could be hotheaded and it usually took her a few hours to calm down, but not this quick. 
Looking at where she removed her eyes from, you look and see your husband, body tense and wings tucked in tightly. You felt immediate comfort and wanted to throw yourself in his arms and fucking cry. How you had missed him this much in only a few hours was a mystery. 
His boots thudded heavily against the wooden floors as he approached your embarrassed daughter. “Look at me,” was all he needed to say before Vesna reluctantly lifted her head. She knew he was going to chew her out. He clenched his jaw in anger as he looked down at her. “Your lack of empathy for what your mother is dealing with right now is astounding. Instead of criticizing, maybe you should try contributing to the solution. We're a family, and we handle things together, not by throwing blame around. She's your mother, but remember that she's my mate and wife first, and no one speaks to my mate and wife with disrespect ever, not even you. Now go ahead and apologize to her.”
Your husband, ever the general.
With teary eyes, realizing the gravity of her words, Vesna approached you. “Hey, Mommy,” she mumbled, avoiding eye contact. She hadn’t called you mommy in forever. “I... I shouldn't have said those things. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be so harsh. I know it must be difficult and my anger took over. I really love you and I’m sorry.”
You were a bit surprised by the apology and softened your expression before replying, “It's okay, sweetheart. We all have our moments. Just remember, we're a team, and we need to support each other.” She nodded, still feeling a bit guilty, and said, “I'll try to do better. Can I help you with anything now?”
A genuine smile appeared on your face as your replied, “That would be wonderful. Let's work together to make things smoother for everyone. How about you start clearing the table and Therian picks up things from the floor.” She nodded and gave you a small kiss on the cheek before hurriedly making her way back to the kitchen table. Cassian gave her a kiss on the head and gave her a proud smile.  “I’m glad you apologized, and it takes courage to admit when we’re wrong. Let’s move forward now. Your willingness to help now means a lot. Thank you.”
Feeling the tension ease after the daughter's apology, your mate approached you. He gently placed a hand on your shoulder and said, “Hi pretty.” You look up at him with a thankful smile. “Hi lover.” He smiles right back at you. “I know it's been a rough day. I’m so proud of you, sugar. We'll get through this together. How about you go upstairs and soak in the tub while I take care of the kids.” He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss on your forehead, and wrapped his arms around the twins who had gone quiet.
Feeling reassured by Cassian’s comforting words, you smiled appreciatively. You gave him a tender kiss in thanks before scurrying upstairs, grateful for the support and unity he provided for your family. 
As you undressed, a delightful surprise caught your eye – the tub was filled, and a slice of your favorite cake awaited you on a nearby table. Gratefully, you thanked The House for the steaming tub and the unexpected treat. Stepping in, you let the heat envelop you, soothing the tension in your muscles. Time seemed to blur as you relaxed in the warm water — minutes or hours, it was hard to keep track. Exhaustion gradually overcame you, and your eyelids grew heavy in the comforting embrace of the tub, a sweet slice of cake adding to the calmness of the moment.
Entering the room, Cassian caught sight of you in the steaming tub, content and relaxed. A mixture of emotions flooded over him – admiration and a deep love that seemed to intensify in this quiet scene. He approached silently, not wanting to disturb the serene moment. Gently, he reached out to stroke your hair, his eyes reflecting the warmth and affection he felt. In that intimate moment, a silent understanding passed between you, affirming that you’d never be alone ever. You’d be there for each other and it made your heart swell. 
Curiosity lit up your eyes, you looked at your husband and asked, “Hey, where are the kids? Did you take care of them?”
A gentle smile played on his lips as he revealed, “Actually, Rhysie and Feyre picked them up. They thought we could use a quiet weekend, just the two of us. They’re taking Nyx, Ves and Theiran on a trip up the mountains but the twins are staying at the River House with Elain and Lucien. She made a special herbal blend that helps their gums, it’s all very Elain.”
Surprise and gratitude washed over you as you processed the thoughtful gesture. “That's so sweet of them, you remarked, a genuine smile forming. “A quiet day sounds perfect.” You exchanged a glance, appreciating the unexpected silence given by thoughtful friends.
“So, are we entirely alone for the entire weekend?” You attempted to conceal your smile as warmth surged in your belly upon meeting Cassian's gaze, only to discover him returning a heated look. “Indeed, sweetness. It's just you and me, alone. Whatever shall we do to pass the time?” His commanding, taunting voice always managed to drive you crazy. He had a charming voice that you could listen to forever. “I can think of a few ways…” you responded as you stood up, dripping wet. You beckoned him closer  and deeply inhaled his delicious scent. He smelled like home. Throwing your arms around him, you inched your lips closer to his, teasing him, not letting him get close enough for a real kiss. He frowned and slightly pouted. “Either give a proper kiss or I walk away.” You knew it was a false threat. Cassian wouldn’t ever leave your embrace now that he was turned on. 
But you decided to keep playing with him, wanting to see how far you could push him. 
“Yeah? Walk away then, baby.” You let your arms drop to the side, slightly tilting your head with a small smirk on your lips. You felt a surge of amusement as you observed him, jaw tight and knuckles white from clenching, meeting your gaze with defiant determination. “Stop fucking with me, y/n/n. You want me as much as I do.” It was his turn to return a mocking smirk. “ What, you think I don’t know you by now? You think I don’t know that you wanna be fucked until you can’t think straight? Little one, I have years on you. I know your body better than you. I’ll ask again. Are you going to kiss me properly or do I walk away?”
 Fucking hell. He really did know your body better than you since his words only fueled you on. While you enjoyed toying with him, it was time to throw in the towel. No way where you wasting any more time. With hands behind your back you looked up at him, doe-eyed and blushy. “I’ll give you a proper kiss, Cassie. Then please take me to bed.” He smiled down at you with a devilish smile, putting his hand on your hips as he pulled towards his warm chest. “ Whatever my baby wants, she gets.” With hands on his chest, you stood on your toes as water swished around your legs, putting your plush lips against his soft ones. 
 Careful, gentle, loving, comforting and really fucking hot.
That was all you could think of when you were kissing him. One of his warm hands roamed all over your body as his other one cupped your face, deepening the kiss. Your own hands stayed in one spot, your favorite place to put your hands. His chest. You absolutely loved touching his chest. Giving his pecs a light squeeze, resting against them, anything really. Centuries of honing his body into a weapon had made him look like a god. 
You wanted to dry off and move to your bedroom, and as if Cassian had read your thoughts, he grabbed the towel without breaking the kiss and wrapped it around you. He simply picked you up, wrapping your legs around his waist as he moved to the bedroom before gently lowering you to the soft bed. Cassian caught your wrists and pinned them, crisscrossed, above your head while he settled between your legs, once again wrapping them around his waist. You kissed until your lips swelled and pulled away for air. 
He forced your legs apart, hand cupping your pussy. You let out a gasp, quickly gripping onto his broad shoulders. Cassian carefully watched your face as it contorted into pleasure when he pushed in two fingers, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as you let out a moan.
 “Feels good, wifey? ” Cassian asked as your nails dug into his shoulders, hips bucking into his touch. “ mhmm, yeah it feels really fucking good.” you managed to respond as you felt his fingers speed up, curling into that delicious spot that made you absolutely melt. 
He wanted to be inside of you, fuck you and ruin you all over the sheets. “ It would feel a lot better  if I had you wrapped around my cock.” He said, looking up at you through is his dark lashes, eyes full of mirth. You clenched around his fingers at the thought of him filling you up with his thick cock. It had been a while since you had been properly dicked down by him, since you two were busy with life and kids. Quickies, fingering and handjobs were all you had time for since the twins were born 6 months ago. As much as you loved your kids, you also loved alone time with your mate and it was rare these days. So of course you’d use this weekend to get fucked, and maybe that would help you relax a bit. Cassians cock had always been the answer for you. 
Mad? Get dicked down. Sad? Get dicked down. Happy? Get dicked down. 
Huh. 
No wonder you had four kids…
You nodded eagerly at him, “ Please cassie, fill me up. I really need it.” He sat up, dumped his clothes on the floor and positioned his cock infront of your throbbing core, teasing a bit. He used his fingers to scissor you open a bit. When you felt even more slick under his touch he retracted his fingers and licked your wetness off of them. He smiled at around his fingers and said, “Delicious.” Your chuckle morphed seamlessly into a moan when he slammed his lenght into you.
  He let out a sound of pleasure as he pushed himself into you. You clenched around his cock, you were so wet and slippery around him. He let out a pleased groan as he started giving you deep strokes. His pace quickened with the intention of finishing inside of you. He loved to make a mess of your pussy like that, fuck you full of his cum and watch it slowly drip out. Nothing made him more possessive than seeing his mate full of his cum. “Fuck, you’re taking me so well, sweetheart. Such a good girl for me, I’m so proud of you, my beautiful girl.” He knew the exact words you needed today and it made you feel so emotional that he knew you this well. 
You blushed. Pleasure crept up your spine once more. Your legs were starting to shake, sweat coated your back. He pulled you into his arms and kissed you as his strokes were getting faster and faster, his lips muffling your moans. He kept up the pace, feeling the pleasure flow through his body, bringing him closer to climax. He loved the feeling of you around him.
 He was addicted to it. He was addicted to you.
You moaned and arched your back as he continued to fuck into you. You wanted to cum so badly, and as if Cassian once again read your mind, he said something that almost made you cry.
“ Don’t cum yet.”
He must have caught your annoyed stare because he looked down, sporting his usual grin, and said, “I want us to come together. You can handle that, right, pretty?” Your brows furrowed as you attempted to feign annoyance, though deep down, you weren't truly bothered at all.
 No, no you weren’t mad at all because if he was adamant about you finishing together, then you’d do everything in your power to make it happen. You got closer to him, pressing a quick kiss before deepening it as your tounges swirled around each other before you pulled away, biting his lip. He let out a groan and it only spurred you on. You pulled out all your tricks, whispering downright filthy things in his ear. That seemed to do the trick. Cassian thrusted deeper and deeper, rubbing tight circles on your neglected clit before you came in unison. 
You moaned at the feeling, warmth filled you as his pace started to slow down. Your mate collapsed on top of you and your put his head on your chest as you ran your fingers through his hair. He remembered that he hadn’t pulled out yet but before he could you stopped him. 
“ Please baby, don’t pull out yet. It feels really warm and good and I want you in me forever.”
You felt his chest rumble with a gentle laughter. “ Whatever you want, you shall have. You did so well, sugar. I love you.” You kissed his forehead and gave him praise back. “ Thank you, baby. I’m so happy you’re here, I love you too.”
Safe to say you fucked the whole weekend, everywhere, only taking breaks for food and occasional naps. But you also basked in the intimacy of having him. by yourself. Eating together, talking about everything between the heavens and earth, cracking jokes and just enjoying yourselves. 
You and your mate, together for all eternity...
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iwaasfairy · 11 months
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┌─ “ ! „ CADAVER
tw. wound fucking, blood, gore, don’t read this if you’re squeamish!!, somnophilia, oral, noncon, megumi is delusional in this, yandere, belly bulge but gross! , cannibalistic thoughts wordcount. 6.4k
a/n. this one,,, was me pushing myself to just go buck wild, and channel my inner junji, and i think i got somewhere with it... a select few of you will understand me when i say that ,, this is like my love letter to megumi fr ♡ like i said though, this one might be the one that has people a little yucked out but! it's basically my halloween fic, for the spooky month
fushiguro megumi x fem!reader
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When the rattling of the stretcher finally quiets in the halls and the rising rate of adrenaline starts to flatten out, Megumi’s lost on what to do. Any of the other sorcerers can’t decide what the next step is either, it seems. Yuji with his back pressed against the glass and staring off into the empty part of the hall they just came from, and principal Yaga a stern quietness and arms crossed. Ieiri-san will do her best work today of any days if there’s anything to be done about it, but Megumi can tell. That uncertainty hangs over all of them as the faint breathing of a collapsed body grows more pitched and panicked.
Megumi always sort of hated you. He didn’t like you from the second he first met you, and it just grew and grew and grew from there. He hates your stupid demeanor with your higher-than-thou morals and your sky-high milestones and that grin that could make even the coldest heart split in two. It doesn’t escape him that this is the same reason he always did enjoy Maki, but you were — more recognizable to him, and yet somehow much further away.
He always hated the way he’d catch himself watching the soft motion of your lashes, or how your mouth would form words, the heat that would carry color to your face. He always hated the quiet moments you’d sit by his side, rattling his heart out of his chest and laughing at him for his hot cheeks; and he always hated how you’d be the thought on his mind right after he’d made sure his own limbs hadn’t yet been blown to bits. But standing with his hands covered in a coating of blood that isn’t his, dripping onto the panes of the old flooring, he wonders what that hatred ever really got him. It never helped him understand you better, that for someone so alike himself, you were so much better at everything.
His chest is rising and falling too fast.
Gojo’s too late, always is when it comes down to the wire, Megumi thinks as the lankier man rushes through and stops a few feet away from them. Yaga’s brow pinches, before he lifts his head the slightest bit to acknowledge the white blond. “What’s the status,” Gojo has to ask, and before he has another conscious thought, Megumi’s furiously rubbing his hands over his sweater in an attempt to get the blood off while his teeth clack with how hard he’s clenching them. There’s a thickness between his ears that makes everything sound far off. The blood stains his fingers the more he rubs, and his face gets hotter and hotter as it lasts.
But he thinks he hears the principal explain.
How you had been pinned down and knocked clean out, head bashed against the concrete pillars. How Megumi had been too busy trying and failing to keep the uglier curse from blasting you both to shit, to notice. How the other special grade had picked you up by the neck and unceremoniously shoved something into your mouth and pushed until it went down your throat - until you started convulsing, spitting out blood and bile before he could reach you. Megumi hadn’t taken the time to look then, but he knows now what it was, slimy, decaying contents of a little vial that had gone missing a few months ago.
“The girl must’ve been a real good match.” Yaga pushes his fingers to his brow, as if forcibly trying to push the frown down. “Ieiri’s doing what she can.” It doesn’t make any of them feel better when Gojo clicks his tongue and aims his eyes at the door, before casting a quick glance at Megumi under thick, blond lashes. He wants to puke. He’d shoved his fingers down your throat for what felt like hours, trying desperately to get you to throw up the curse. Had carried you all the way back while you were sobbing and wailing in pain. Nothing.
If even the worst case repeats itself, they’ll have another incarnation on their hands, and the noose will be tightened around your throat. Yuji must have already realized this, because he’s yet to say anything since you’d been tied onto the stretcher with blood pouring out of your nose and ears and coughing up grime. Megumi’s not even sure if Ieiri would hesitate to put you down without a second warning before it gets to the same turning point. And he is pissed. At the situation, his friends, himself, you. He’s so angry his hands shake, and so angry tears start stinging behind his eyes, feeling like any motion might cause him to throw up. He hates you.
+
Your chest’s rising with big motions up and down, up and down, as you drum your feet on his bedsheets like an excited rabbit. Megumi grunts, snatches the book from your hands and tosses it back down with the others that were not-so-neatly stacked on his desk. Your shape on his bed makes a dent in his mind that he’ll have to keep replaying over and over when he closes his eyes, and it has a frown pulling his eyebrows down automatically. “So grumpy,” you yawn, and also roll over onto your stomach to tuck your legs to your core, lifting one hand to rest your face into it.
“This isn’t your room.”
“Might as well be,” you giggle back, and he watches for a moment as your hair falls along your shoulders in a gentle brush, making you look even more enchanting. You’re soft and parts of you are shiny like silk, seemingly oozing your rosy, peachy aura all over his stuff. You catch his eyes for just a few breaths, still rising your chest too distractingly, before you push yourself up and slide off the bed to walk up to him. He pivots to thumb through the notes on his desk again, to be farther away from your face probably, and his shoulders rise into an uncomfortable pinch when you approach, feet patting on his floor. “Megumi.” You say his name with a clear pout.
Then heat covers his skin at the base of his throat and he freezes, letting the way you drag your soft lips over his pulse fill him up entirely. His hands shake too hard to keep a grip on the paper, so he spins you around and shoves you back against the desk as you hiss at the sudden painful grip, his fist wrapped into the collar of your shirt. “I already told you to stop doing that.” He hisses, and your eyes are wide and glittering like diamonds, beautiful color peering up at him.
“But you like it when I do that,” you whisper back ever so softly, and his head feels like it’s splitting at the seams, cracking his skull under a non-escapable pressure. He can’t think, can’t even eat normally without the ghost of you hanging over him and shaking him up. It’s unbearable even when you’re not around. His fist unclenches from the flimsy fabric to instead grip your chin with his thumb, and his heart bangs against his ribcage harder than can be normal. Harder than is healthy. A little thought in the back of his skull begs to push. Just once, deny you from digging your claws deeper into him— but he’s already melted to your shape before he can blink.
His face drops like you’re magnetic, thighs pushing you further into the desk and also into him; and it’s truly embarrassing that his hands are still shaking like they do. You lean in when he does, and let your lips meet his hungry, treacherous mouth, other hand sliding to your waist to pull you closer. Your tongue brushes his and he implodes inside, and he swears it hurts to be this close to you.
Not that you care. Your arms wind around his neck to pull him even closer, and his blood feels like it’s boiling under his skin.
+
He finds himself wandering back to the quieter wing of the school when the sun’s already dipped far past the horizon, and the cold starts picking up. He’s dragging his feet, so he won’t fucking rush back to the room he finds himself thinking about so fast he stumbles. He’s glaring at the patterns in the floorboards so he doesn’t cry. You’re stable- quiet puffs of air escaping your nose every few seconds, but you’re still under surveillance. As far as the clans are concerned, they’ll put something sharp between your eyes sooner rather than later, before whatever’s slumbering inside you wakes up. But Gojo’s fighting for you. It makes him grimace to think about.
Knocking his knuckles onto the doorframe, he enters the dimly lit room. Nanami doesn’t stand when he spots him, but does uncross his legs as he takes a deep breath. Neither of them speak for a while, and the dark haired man takes that time to run his eyes over you. You’re not as dirty as you were when you first got back, shivering and shaking. You’re no longer dripping with blood, though he’s sure if he were to look close enough, he’d still be able to see flecks of it between your cracked lips. As he walks up, he finds himself thinking that you look strangely peaceful, and that doesn’t seem entirely right.
Save for the bloody mark that seems branded into your forehead, you look like you’re quietly sleeping on the metal slab that supports your body. After all the pain and agony you’ve caused in him, sleepless nights and long days of wondering, hoping you’d be okay. Why is it that he’s the one affected by you? Why is it that he’s the one who’s going to have to say goodbye again? He stares at your unmoving form as if that’ll give him an answer, but it doesn’t. And the pit in his stomach swells again. He’s just so angry all the time. Megumi breathes out. “It’s my turn to take watch for a while.”
“You’re early,” Nanami’s deep baritone chastises, but he gets up from the seat anyway. He smooths out the wrinkles in his suit, before slowly placing a hand on the other’s shoulder. The weight is heavy, and somehow doesn’t soothe him at all. But there’s an attempt, he guesses. He’s still not entirely sure why everyone is looking at him like he’s the one who needs it most, broken and disheveled and mourning. He’s been able to finish his tasks like everyone else has, and he can banish the thought of you when he’s supposed to focus on work— at least, mostly. He doesn’t need the fucking pity. “Want some coffee? Or green tea?” Nanami asks, letting his hand slide off when Megumi shrugs.
“No. I’m okay.”
The older man seems to hesitate, simply nodding when he walks past. Before closing the door behind him, he once again clears his voice, and Megumi turns over his shoulder. The blond has this look in his eyes, of pity, as he talks. “Megumi, there’s a chance she pulls through.” Why again - that fucking pity? “Don’t give up.” Though it makes him tingle with an unbearable sort of itch deep under the skin, he grits his teeth, and his brain’s hot and irritated when he responds.
“I wasn’t going to.” Nanami doesn’t seem to believe him, but still softly slides the door closed behind him, and when the footsteps grow softer and softer, Megumi allows for a second to collect himself. He braces his hands onto the metal as he leans in, close enough to feel just the slightest bit of your warmth on his fingers, and see the way you’re still breathing, though shallow, too faint for his liking. His brows pinch when he finds himself with his forehead pressed to your stomach, hunched over like he’s praying at your shrine or something. But he can’t help it.
As much time as he spent beside you with a frown on his face, it never feels enough. He can’t stay away, like it’s an involuntary thing— you leave him no choice in the matter. Even here in the darkness, whining softly into your wheezed breaths, it isn’t enough to be beside you. He can’t do anything from here at your bedside; and that uselessness makes him feel even more uneasy. He needs to be closer to you. Wants to be so close you two get stuck together and melt together like an inseparable entity, would want to crawl inside you if he could.
His nose presses into the clean shirt that smells like your laundry, as he clenches his fists so hard along the table edge they start to ache. His eyes are pressed closed tight when he allows him just a second to nose below your sternum, and that uncomfortable stinging sensation comes back to his eyes. “Fucking idiot,” his lips brush against your covered skin, taking in the lack of heat, of your smell and the way you sounded with his face buried there, “I didn’t mean it.”
+
“Aw, ow, ow, Megumi~” You pout with a pitched whine as his hand stays screwed around your knee for a little longer, keeping you trapped under his heavier, taller body so that you start wiggling. Your head falls back against his arm, and you lean to press a few kisses to his wrist that’s holding your own to the floor. “Be more gentle.” You pout when you pull back and flash him that fucking look that sends icy shivers down his spine, and exactly nothing else. “You can be gentle, can’t you?” Every other part of him flushes with heat under your doe-eyed, pitiful look, definitely when you start wiggling out of his grasp like you’re suddenly over the game.
You started it. He wouldn’t put himself in your range on purpose. When you’re about halfway out from under his crouched form, you sit up to be face to face; and you brush your hand past his ear, down his jaw and neck and trail his collarbones, all places he’s convinced are now stained a bright, obnoxious pink from his flush. You let your fingers linger when you tilt your head aside a bit so you can slot your lips over his into a sweet, little kiss, and you pull your lips into another pout. “Swear you’re doing it to hurt me sometimes. I’m never trying to hurt you, you know.” A few strands of hair fall over your eye when you sit below him, and he has to fight every single muscle in his body not to push it back for you.
He wants to see your eyes. He wants you to see him like this, pinned under you like the attraction you render him as— his body collapses on top of you as you start giggling all fucking cutely, and his heart races more than it ever has. Your heartbeat drums into his face when he buries it into your softness, chest against his cheek, too long for his own sanity before he drags himself off you. And it is a drag. His entire body starts feeling sluggish when you’re this close to him, close enough to drown himself in your scent. He won’t ever say it, but that scent gets him hard and awfully mellow all at once, his cock coming to life in his pants before he’s moving.
You look happy. Your eyes are those bright, gentle colors that rain down on him, and your lips are quirked into a soft smile, you must know what you’re doing to him. Setting him up for failure again. He huffs and pushes himself onto his back instead, knocking his head to the floor while you’re moving from the rug - splaying your knees either side of him before you nuzzle right back on top of his chest and make it even harder to get a breath, let alone catch it. He’s sure he’s panting a little when you leave your warmth draped all over him, and you don’t do anything other than be there.
His arms are still on the floor, his body rigid under you, but you’re softly giggling into his peck before he frowns down at you again when you catch his eyes. “What?”
“Your heart is beating super fast,” you admit, not proud, not gloating - just stating the fact, and heat overtakes his neck now too. Instead of letting you wind him up any further, he bucks you off and switches positions again, now with your two wrists caught in his hands as you squeak with the ache that probably lodges in your back.
“Can you get off of me?” He sits back on his feet, not letting go of your hands yet, before your eyes flutter and you grab him back. Well, brush your fingers over the skin you can reach, pawing at him just enough to tickle. “What’s with you today?” he bites back, and also snatches his hands back to escape the onslaught of feelings that wash over him. You don’t sit up this time, and from the tilt of your head, you’re considering your answer for a while before you speak out.
“Do you like me, Megumi?” Fuck. His room seems to collapse in on itself. Or, maybe it’s his body— because he gets a little more short of breath, and his thoughts short circuit as his mouth stupidly drops open. He’s choked up for long enough that he has to clear his voice to try an answer, and even then, he gets stuck. You’re studying him so closely it must show. The blaring warmth that fills him up and makes his ears bright red. After another second, your eyes seem to dim slightly, as you push your cheek to your shoulder, opening yourself up to even more attacks. “Love y’, ‘gumi.”
+
He straightens up with enough tightness in his chest to choke him, makes his eyes sting and his head blare cold, painful warnings— he grabs some of the glasses from the small table beside him, launches it straight into the wall until it shatters into a million pieces upon impact. The loud clang doesn’t do anything to settle his anger, where he fists his hands into his hair and pulls, in hopes the worry will somehow vanish.
“Why do you always have to be such a hero?” he hisses, even though you can’t answer now, “wouldn’t it have been enough to just stay here with me?!” He tilts your face to his and drops his lips to yours, and that familiar softness is enough to have him clenching his eyes shut again against the tears. He kisses you until your mouth opens a bit, then slides his tongue up against yours and grips your shoulders, pulling your limp body towards him more. “I’ll be better to you.” He pleads. You don’t move, and the breaths going over his cheeks are so shallow.
But he can’t stop himself from tangling your tongue with his, licking into your mouth and chasing the warmth until he runs out of breath. You’re so fucking pretty still. He kisses you again, bumping teeth, and grips your hip hard as he lays over you a little more, chest to chest and feeling it brush against him with each soft pant he lets out, each gravelly moan. It doesn’t hurt so much to brush his tongue against yours, to swallow your taste on his tongue until his lips numb — but while it doesn’t ache, it’s also not enough. Before he’s able to think about the morality of his actions, his thumbs are hooking under your shirt and pushing it up, over your soft belly and ribcage all the way up until it’s over your tits, where his lips travel to as soon as the skin’s exposed. You’re so soft still, too.
He’s not sure what he’s doing other than leaving messy, open mouth kisses onto you, kneading your skin between his hands as all the warmth in his body pools into his groin. Your tits are sucked into his mouth, one then the other, as he rubs his face into the doughy skin, then he’s pulling and pinching at your tits like he knows makes you whimper. The sound’s burned into his working memory, and it drives him on to run his face down your soft body to the part where your thighs meet. The skin just above your skirt of the softest, warmest, and he full on moans when his cock twitches hard in his pants and he reaches down to grab himself.
Normally you’d be blinking up at him now, sending him that little look with grabby hands, ready to wrap your puffy lips around him— it’s different when it’s his hand screwed around himself and not even moving yet. he can’t, or he’ll cum in his pants, and he’s not going to waste his cum like that when your warm pussy’s right before him. He’s shaky when he pushes the fabric up, flipping it over your tummy; and groans again when he licks down your panties and mouths at the seat of it. It tastes so much like you his eyes roll back, and his knees give a little, while more precum leaks out of him and into his pants.
He frees his hands momentarily to slide you to the edge of the metallic table, two hands gripping your butt and squeezing, then hooking his finger in your panties to just pull them aside. He doesn’t care about the chaffing he’ll have. Not even a second thought when your little pussy is in front of him, and he pushes his mouth to you for some open mouthed kisses, down to your pussy and back up. Wrapping his mouth around your clit, he sucks hard, and rubs the bud a few times with his tongue. He swears your breathing goes more pitched and heavier when he does, when his fingers trail down your puffier lips to rub the bit of wetness around.
His cock’s painfully hard in his pants, and after a few more times licking you up and down so that your slick covers the entire bottom half of his face, he pushes the zipper down and then takes himself out to watch how red and sore the head of his cock already is, oozing pre and coating both his boxers and his shaft. He spits into his hand to give himself a few tight-wrung pumps, tighter than he likes normally- if he doesn’t, he’ll spill all over your cute, little pussy. He pushes his fingertips inside your now wetter cunt, watching it wink and beg for something to fill, and groans when one finger slides in with ease.
Your soft walls are still soft and hot around him, giving mean licks over your clit again and again in a way that would normally overstimulate you too easily. You don’t whimper or whine now, take his finger nice and sweet inside your squelching, gooey walls, only making a little noise when he slides in a second and he can feel the slight bit of stretching you need. He’s dripping onto the table now, balls tight and heavy - imagines how you moan and look when you’re sucking on them and you smack your lips with each open mouthed kiss or lick. You between his legs is always enough to have his knees giving, and it’s no different now, he has to hold himself up against you before he thinks better of it.
You’re slid back on the table too easily, making room for him when he pushes one of your legs aside— and let out a slight gasp when he hoists himself over your body. He just wants you. So bad. It’s not so embarrassing when you’re not awake to see how fucking crazy he looks, flushed, cock twitching between his legs as he strains to kiss you again, lick over your tongue for more of your taste, and breathes your name. “Baby, fuck- I need to be inside you.” He wants to hide away in your safety forever. A crystalline, fucked up thought springs up in his mind for just a second, but he banishes that with a few blinks.
Instead he lines himself up over your hot, needy pussy and pushes inside just the head at first, grunting tightly at the softness that envelops him. His whole body shudders as he pushes in deeper, feeling that pit in his stomach expand with each inch that he goes deeper, tangles his fingers with yours when he bottoms out and fills you up so well. You’re curled into his touch, and he kisses you, his thoughts blanking as he pulls back, and snaps his hips back inside you. You’re hot and wet and it feels so fucking good, clenching your hand inside his larger one. It’s not fair. He’s losing his mind, and you’re always the end of him.
His cock rubs against your swollen insides with rough, imprecise strokes — he doesn’t mean to, it’s just that trying to focus on anything other than the heat as he slides in and out of your tight pussy is too much. You’re too much; you’re haunting him even now. He kisses down your face to your neck, sucks on your skin and bites down hard enough to make a serious mark, wanting to hear you cry. Normally, you’d cry out his name so pretty, dig your nails into his back until he’s letting you go and grinding back on his cock, but you can’t do that now. His cockhead bumps your spot each time he fucks himself into you further, but it’s not enough.
It’s never been enough. He wants to be closer to you, and that horrible image that was launched into his head creeps back up before his eyes, bloody and horrible. Maybe he always told himself that he hated you because - no matter how much he fought, he would never be able to stomach actually hurting you as much as it hurts him. But now, withering on top of you as his cock thumps with how much blood rushes south, everything else falls away. He wants to claw and bite and carve his way to your insides and make you pay just a little for his sins. His body is coated in a thin sheen of sweat, thighs pumping blood through his body to his lungs, his gut, his cock.
He pulls out of you to kiss down your tits and over your covered ribs, thumbing over the head of his cock and gliding it over your puffy clit, your wet pussy lips and flicking it just in and out of your drooling cunt— before he puts a sloppy few kisses there too, tongue coated in slick. The blood pumps through his head so hard he feels dizzy, pounding behind his eyes as the heat of your cunt overwhelms him entirely. It’s too hard to stay sane -he’s never felt less sane than now- when you’re laying below him like this, ready to leave him all alone. You wormed your way into his heart when he didn’t want it, and now, now that’s all about to end.
His mouth is dry, but he’s drooling as he grips your thigh and kneads the doughy skin of your tummy— looking so soft and warm and perfectly shaped for him. He wants -needs, needs it, to feel you swallow him, ruin him- to cut you open and eat your insides out with the sick force of what he’s feeling right now— he groans your name again, desperately trying and failing to get it out of his head— the more he tries the better it feels to think it. Despite having his fist around the base of his cock, stings of white shoot over your body as he crumples in on himself and paints you with his cum. He’s still hard though, painfully so, and as soon as he’s done cumming he can already feel the building urge to do it again, trailing his shaking fingers down to your clenching pussy and rubbing your clit until your body starts wiggling back just a little too.
Megumi wants to go, bury this urge down and never think of it again. He really does— but it’s like he’s possessed, drooling over your body and flicking his cock in and out of your pussy without sliding back in. He might’ve had it wrong this whole time, but if this is love - God, he loves you, he loves, loves, loves you so much he’s not ever going to have enough. Can’t ever say goodbye, not when his entire soul’s been bound to yours, has been rotted away into nothing like this. There’s only you, and him; and he can’t get close enough to make this fucking feeling go away.
With black spots swimming over his vision, he’s not sure what he’s doing until he’s knelt on the floor and shards of glass cut his knees open through his pants; he doesn’t feel it - just trembles as he gets one of the larger shards and crawls back to you, right between your plush thighs as he kisses your face over and over until he feels like he’ll be sick. “Forgive me when you wake up, baby.” It doesn’t really sound like him anymore, faint and messy as he ruts his cock against the inside of your thigh and stares at your face for a little longer. He paws at your tummy again, maybe it’s the lack of oxygen - he feels like he hasn’t taken a breath in ages - or the fact that all his blood is cleary in his swollen cock, hot and heavy.
He kisses you again, pants against your chest as he watches between your two bodies as one arm keeps him up, and the other drags the shard of glass below your belly button just hard enough to create a little cut. He just- just wants to be a little closer, you’ll let him, you’ll let him- he’s been so fucking mean to you and if he can just do this, he’ll make it up to you. Specks of blood well up that he swipes his thumb through to slide it into his mouth, get used to the taste of copper on his tongue. Sometimes he bites your lip hard enough to split it, and you tear up and whine, tangle your fingers in his hair.
He could cum on the spot when you yank like that, but the taste now isn’t enough. As he pushes the shard of glass into your skin harder, watching one layer make way for another, tougher tissue that still gives when he grids down a little- he waits for the moment where he feels bad, regrets and walks it all back- but the feeling doesn’t come. Your body looks so pretty like this, robbed of your innocence by his hands; and he doesn’t wanna cum yet, fuck. The adrenaline swimming in his head is pounding too hard to feel anything other than love for you, and the pulling, almost unbearable sensation of wanting to slide back into you. The blood pools around the hole as he slides along, hearing the skin squelch and snap, building a sweat along his neck and collar. Maybe you’d lick it up if you were awake.
The blood runs, covers his entire fist that’s wrapped tight around the glass, it creates little rivers that you’ll both be laying in soon. He coughs, before kissing you below your jaw, feeling the weak pulse beneath his lips— and righting himself to look at his work with a better angle, groaning. There’s both more blood and less than he expected, pooling in your belly button, all over your pretty pussy, his thighs and hands- his cock not yet. He drops the glass aside as he thumbs over the wound and sure enough- he’s cut through fat and muscle and sinew without too much struggle, because you’re soft all over.
He pushes the fleshy gash open more, thumbs over the clean cut he made with a strange sort of fascination before the hot, hot blood gets to be too much for his curiosity and he leans in to lick from your clit up, up, up until his tongue reaches the raised, tight skin— what has he done, what’s he doing, this, this isn’t — he can’t stand the heat that’s coming out of you for long, and it smells, but that isn’t what sticks with him right now. He’s never wanted to be closer. The gaping pouch of your belly’s drooling red for him. The head of his cock twitches when he feels the hot of your stomach coating him in blood, and coating you in turn. The cum from before’s all but washed away, but he’s sure he can give you another couple orgasms before he tuckers out.
He’s strung so high all of this feels like a dream, like his head is about to roll off of his neck; he pushes in with a garbled sort of sound that comes from deep, deep inside him. The skin doesn’t wanna give way at first, but he manages to push back hard enough before suddenly he’s inside, and it’s like nothing else. The pressure of a slab of skin taking him where it’s not meant to go— bleeding and whining out like this, it’s euphoric. He’s able to see his cock’s outline glide into you until it’s bulging your stomach, squelching and sucking him back in; feels like you’re taking him deeper than ever, letting him fuck his cock so deep he’ll hit your ribs soon. You’re so fucking beautiful, even like this, getting coated and letting him fuck it.
He doesn’t know what it’s like to feel like you’re dying, but the peace that washes him entirely clean might be close; he grinds his hips into you hard enough to rock your body under him as he laces your hands again. Both, this time, just chasing after an end that seems like it’ll never come.
He feels infinite. Your blood’s so hot it’s almost painful, and the tightness of the hole he carved into you is entirely different from your pussy, pushing back against him like you’re begging him to get out. He imagines you’d beg so pretty- but he’s inside you, finally inside and deeper than anyone’s ever been. He’s able to watch his cock blow up your belly and make it hollow when he pulls back, and God- he should feel worse than he does. He could swallow you whole if you’d let him. The feeling has him shuddering over you as he pants your name, makes your tits brush over his chest- and his balls smack against the smooth stretch of skin until he can’t feel his feet any longer.
Now he’s got you dirtied, he wants to ruin you too, leave you a mangled mess of flesh and swallow every last bit of you until he never forgets the taste. But that would require he’d stop fucking his hot cock into your bloody, little pouch, and that won’t happen. He’s panting, sweat running down his back from the effort, and his groin starts to feel a little raw too. He might’ve been going for hours by now, licking your mouth clean from his drool only to dirty you again. The head of his cock feels fucked raw inside you, and his thighs shake before his shoulders square over you.
Megumi speeds up his pace fucking into your guts -actually- until he clenches every muscle, is overcome again and reaches heaven inside you, spurting creamy white into the pouch he’s created for himself; “Fuck, fuck, fuckfuckfuckfuck,” his hand has to twist into an uncomfortable position to reach for your clit, but he wildly does it anyway— cramping up, until he’s collapsing on top of you and stilling inside. The stench of blood makes the entire room smell, as he thumbs over the side of your blood-coated thigh with one hand, and feels the shaking all the way up and down his spine. He pulls out so slowly, pumping the last bits of cum out with a throaty moan, before he slides off the table onto awfully shaky legs.
If he was any more lucid, he’d think twice before leaning by your side to kiss your eyes, your nose, your pouty lips as the tears that must’ve been building for a while run down your temple— and suppresses the need to actually eat you- for now, he rubs a softer hand over your exposed tummy, before folding the now blood-drenched fabric of your skirt back down to hide your puffy pussy, lest he be tempted again. He whispers his love into your ears, nuzzles at your hairline until the feeling comes back to his hands and feet and he tucks his spent cock back into his boxers, and goes about cleaning the mess he made of the floor.
It’s only when an uncomfortable scratchy sound comes that he notices the burning heat on his neck, the dried sweat painfully sticky— and straightens up beside you when you start to shake again. Immediately his worry is sky high. Even in the gross air of mixed blood and cum and the scent of sex soaking everything, his mind is just clear enough to hold your head when you thrash around a few times, and your chest rises wildly up and down. Then before his very eyes, the damage he’d done upon you slowly starts to stitch itself together, like weaving threads. Lacing you up until every bit of muscle, fat, and skin restores to it’s pristine glory before he ever touched you, with a little puff of cursed energy.
He bites his lip hard when the shaking stops, and your back lands back onto the metal with a soft clang. The noise is louder now it’s quiet in the room. Megumi waits for a bit longer before he brushes the hair from your face, and doesn't mind it that he’s leaving tracks. The darkness is filled with his tense breathing, and then — every sound at once. Your eyes shoot open with a cry, sobbing out like a baby for a few painful seconds. But then spot him thumbing your tears away devoted like he is -though he won’t admit it to you, and you let out a noise of pure relief.
It’s almost poetic, when you crash back into his arms and this time, he lets your arms wind around his waist.
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Adoption | Learn
“So let me get this straight.”
Danny stared at the group of vigilantes in front of him, a look of utter disbelief etched onto his face.
“Batman had a baby with Catwoman, she hid it from him, gave the baby up for adoption, and that baby is me. And you’re all here because Batman’s other ex also had a hidden pregnancy, but she’s a homicidal maniac who wants to make sure her son is the only blood child because of some weird cult rules?”
If they’d been in a cartoon, there’s be crickets chirping. He continued, voice growing less disbelieving and more angry as he went.
“And because some cult wants to kill me, I have to give up my whole life, cut off all contact with my family and friends, go live in a state 900 miles away, and stay cooped up— for an unknown amount of time— in Bruce Wayne’s mansion, because that’s who Batman really is.”
A stilted silence filled the room of the safe house Danny had been dragged to a few hours ago, sans the unnecessarily long explanation he’d just summarized.
After a few more moments, Nightwing stepped forward and smiled gently at him an oh, that rankled Danny. He did not need whatever kid gloves the guy was about to pull on. Before Bluebell had a chance to open his mouth, Danny channeled his inner Jazz and raised his hand for silence. Nightwing paused, and Danny proceeded to give them all a single, flat, unimpressed look, and then stated factually,
“I’m not leaving, I’m not staying with yet another frootloop billionaire, and I’m not in the least concerned with dying. So. You can all go back to where you belong, I’ll stay here, where I belong, and if any cultist come knocking I’ll deal with them just like I’ve been dealing with every other threat in this town the last six months: alone. Because apparently the entire Justice League is too busy to respond to calls for help about inter-dimensional threats popping in and out of my parents basement on a daily basis.”
… Okay, so Danny may have been yelling a bit by the end, but it was justified! And oh, Danny really wished his life was a cartoon right now, because that cricket chirping would be been perfect. He’s pretty sure he broke a few of them. Nightwing looked ready to cry.
Good. Danny was too tired to deal with this sh*t.
Thanks to the whole Pariah Dark thing last month, Danny was apparently immortal now anyways, so even if the cult people managed to completely destroy his body, he’d just reform in the Zone. Because he was now connected to it, and only another ghost could End him like he had Pariah, because of some weird dimensional rules. Apparently, since humans couldn’t rule the Infinite Realms, they just, like… didn’t qualify to kill him. That went for aliens, demons, gods, and other non-human beings of sentience.
So Danny’s got that going for him at least. About time something useful came outta this whole disaster of a school year.
But he’d gotten off track. Before him stood a truly ridiculous number of vigilantes, and they all looked like he’d just slapped them with a fish and then played violin with it. For a few minutes, Danny just basked in the stuttering and bewildered looks, before he noticed Nightwing drawing himself up in righteous determination and decided that yeah, he was done now.
At this point, being a dramatic a**hole to people (or ghosts) who were annoying him was just second nature, so he straightened to attention, raised his hand in a salute, and then let himself sink through the floor, perfectly stoic.
The stuttering turned to panicked shouts, and Danny’s last view of his apparent siblings was a few people lunging for him and missing, winding up tangled together on the carpet.
‘Ahhhh, yesss, I will treasure that memory always! Ah well, time to get home! Maybe I should scout out for those cult people, mess around with them. Maybe follow them back sometime, meet my half-brother. That could be fun, me and Ellie can make a road trip of it this summer! Maybe by then, the Justice Losers will have gotten their heads out as their butts.’
Meanwhile, back at the safe house, several frantic calls were being made about the dimensional threats and the League of Assassins and the possibly meta human, definitely vigilante brother.
Amity Park was about to get a lot more chaotic.
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hearts4golbach · 8 months
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Hi! can you write a Johnnie x fem reader fluff to smut? 🙏🏼
Blushed.
Johnnie Guilbert x Fem!Reader.
Authors note: I have seen this idea used a few times on tumblr from a few different people, so this is unoriginal, but I've really wanted to write this.
warning: smut.
"What's up guys, welcome back to my channel!" I hollered, imitating certain YouTubers. I had always found intros to be hilarious. "Today, I'm with my boyfriend, Johnnie Guilbert." I wrapped my arm around his shoulders. "I'm going to be making him normal."
Johnnie rolled his eyes and smiled. "Yippee. I'm being tortured." he made jazz hands.
I covered his mouth quickly, attempting to act suspiciously. "This was his idea.. anyway!" I pushed him so he was sitting on my bed. I pulled the first product out of my makeup bag. "This is primer, which you know about, obviously. so there's nothing new there."
I stood in between his legs and began to apply the primer, smearing it all over his face. he gripped my waist softly, looking up at me with a sweet smile. I glanced away, trying not to get too worked up over a simple gesture. I smiled to myself and finished rubbing it all in.
"Great!" I said sarcastically, moving so the camera could see. "shit, I have to pin up your bangs." I grabbed two clips from my dresser. I parted his hair in the middle, clipping his midnight black hair on either side of his face.
he slapped his hand over his forehead, "Not the six head." he snorted before removing his hand.
"You do not have a six head," I rolled my eyes, placing a kiss on his forehead before moving on. I pulled the next product out of the bag. "Funny story, I had to go out and buy Johnnie a whole different foundation because he's too pale for mine."
Johnnie made a finger gun, pointing it at the camera and sticking his tongue out with a laugh. "it's because all I do is play fortnite." he smirked.
"I know." I retorted as I wet my beauty blender. I placed dots of foundation around his face, fighting the urge to kiss him as I did so. "Okay, cute! perfect shade match." I moved put of the cameras view.
Johnnie checked himself out in the mirror, raising and dropping his eyebrows. "Uncanny Valley."
"Okay, well, I've barely done anything yet, so.." I trailed off, digging through the bag. "Next, concealer. Which, you also know of because I'm sure you go through a lot of it." I teased, tapping his nose before standing in front of him again.
his hands made their way to my waist as I focused on putting the liquid in the right place to highlight his face. he slowly moved his hands down, so they were on my ass.
"johnnie!" I scolded, "im going to have to edit that out."
he smirked, laughing at my comment. "I'd leave it in."
"Yeah, I'm sure you would." I retorted, going back to blending the concealer.
he had moved his hands back up, and now they were on my hips. his thumbs rubbed circles into my skin, making me shiver under his touch. I cleared my throat awkwardly as he laughed under his breath at my reaction.
I pulled away, revealing his face to the camera. I tapped his cheeks before moving on. "Next, we have blush, contour, and bronzer." I picked up the 3 products, showing the camera.
I began working on his face once more as he hummed, I wasn't sure what song. I stuck my finger under his chin, "Look up at me." he did as told, gazing into my eyes. "Thank you, baby." I smiled before getting to work on his contour. his cheekbones contoured nicely, making me grow more eager for him by the second.
I turned around, clearly distracted. "uh, next step." I stuttered, reaching into the bag. "highlighter."
my brush grazed over his cheeks and nose before gently tapping the inner corner of his eyes. "ah! my eye clit!" johnnie blinked rapidly.
"oh my god." I rolled my eyes, "okay, the last couple steps are mascara, eyeliner, and eyeshadow."
using a light pink eyeshadow, I colored in Johnnie's eyelids. I did a small wing before curling his lashed and putting mascara on them.
"what if I put lashes on you?" I pondered, putting up the mascara.
"oh, god." he replied dreadfully. "can I see myself now?"
I sighed before grinning at him. "I guess." I handed him a mirror and impatiently waited for his reaction.
"damn, would I fuck myself?" he pondered, furrowing his eyebrows.
"I mean, its how I do my makeup every day so..." I joked. "wait! I forgot your lipstick, how could I be so stupid?" I pulled out a musty pink lipstick and quickly applied it. "okay, now youre done."
I recorded my outro, desperate to shut the damn camera off. after turning it off, I grabbed the makeup wipes.
"you ready to take it off?" I asked him.
he eagerly nodded. "yes, please."
I climbed into his lap, "you did so good, thank you for recording that with me."
he hummed at the praise, I felt his member grow slightly under me. "anytime." his hands moved down to my ass once more, gently squeezing.
I bucked into him, trying not to make any noises as I wiped off the rest of the makeup. "shit, johnnie."
he smirked and kissed me softly, his hands moving down my thighs. I leaned into the kiss. Johnnie's hand made its way up my shirt, gently massaging my boob while the other kneaded my inner thigh. "you're such a tease." he whispered onto my lips.
I hummed in response. he quietly groaned into the kiss, his body pressed against mine. my hands flew up to his head, getting tangled in his hair. I began to deepen the kiss, wanting more. I moaned quietly, making his hips roll up against me. "God, you're so hot." I say breathlessly before smashing my lips onto his.
his tongue danced with mine as his hands explored my body. "you're killing me, I need you. now." he said desperately.
I nodded eagerly, "please, johnnie." I pleaded, moaning as he began kissing down my neck.
he trailed kisses along my collar bone, nipping and sucking at the tender skin. he left light hickeys all over, groaning into my skin. "I'm so crazy for you."
"johnnie, i-" I was cut off by a moan as he went back to attacking my neck.
I felt him smirk against my skin. "I love it when you say my name like that." I felt his erection pressed against my clothed pussy. "lay down for me, babe."
I did as told, crawling off his lap and laying back on the bed. he slipped off my shirt, leaving me in my bra as he kissed down my stomach. I wiggled under his touch, wanting more. he undid my jeans and pulled them off, tossing them somewhere in the room. he kicked off his own pants and shirt aswell, leaving both of us in our underwear. I bit my lip, moaning softly at the sight of his erection.
"you're so beautiful," he whispered, tucking my hair out of my face before kissing me again. "you ready?"
I nodded eagerly. "please, johnnie. I need you so bad." I whimpered as he positioned himself between my legs.
"tell me what you need, baby." he whispered, lust burning in his eyes. I tried to pull him closer, but he pulled away. "use your words."
"fuck, I want your cock, johnnie." I whimpered.
"atta girl." he smirked, pulling my panties off and tossing them along with my jeans. "Jesus, you're so beautiful."
I moaned quietly as he nibbled at my neck. I clawed at his back, pulling him closer. "stop teasing." I pleaded.
he nodded, listening to my request. I felt his hard tip press against my entrance. he slowly pushed inside of me, groaning at the feeling of filling me up. "so fucking tight." he muttered.
"oh my god, yes." I moan quietly.
johnnie groaned, pushing the rest of the way inside of me. I gasped as he began to thrust slowly, making my walls grip tightly around him. "God, I love the pretty sounds you make."
his words made my jaw fall, letting a low moan escape. he picked up his speed, his hips slapping against my wetness as he thrusted deeper. "jesus- oh, shit." I stuttered.
johnnie groaned, rolling his eyes back as he lost himself in pleasure. "oh, fuck- thats it. give it to me."
"keep going, oh shit!" I moaned into his neck. he moved sweaty hair out of my face before kissing me roughly.
his thrusts became harder and faster, his hips slammed against mine as he took me roughly. "fuck, you're amazing." he whimpered onto my lips.
"fuck, give it to me, baby." I moaned, digging my hands into his back. he growled softly as he pushed deeper inside of me, pausing for a moment before pulling out and slamming back into me.
his thrusts became ever more forceful, his cock hitting my cervix with each powerful thrust. "does this feel good, baby? fuck, you're so good." he kissed my neck.
"yes, o-oh my god, yes. don't stop. i-im close!" I panted.
his thrusts became more erratic, his hips slapping into me one last time before he released inside of me. I came along with him, my orgasm rushing through my whole body. I went limp, watching as he collapsed next to me.
"Oh my god." he whispered, kissing me softly. "I love you so much."
"I love you more."
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xoxosimp · 4 months
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Right Person, Wrong Time
POV: You break playboy!Bucky’s heart 
Pairing: Bi!Bucky Barnes x Bestfriend!Reader
Part two: Perfect Timing
Warnings: angst, not beta’d, mediocre writing
A/N: This is heavily inspired by this sound on tik tok and one of my favorite scenes in a Disney channel show I used to watch LOL.
~~~~
If there is something about life, you like things to be simple. 
You flourished when you had a consistent and simple routine. Where others feel bored with things being the same everyday, mundaneness gives you a certain type of peace you never wanted to give up.
Bucky Barnes was a part of your routine. Every day after work, you and Bucky would run at the park. Sometimes it was one mile, other days it was five. 
Your workout routine with Bucky was never stale. Warm up, run, (Bucky insists that he always runs behind you for whatever protective reason he has. And looking at your ass is a great motivator, not that you know the latter). Then you would have dinner together, either one of you would cook or you would go out to eat. 
The sound of you and Bucky’s steps echoed against the pavement. Sweat clouded your vision and your lungs were begging for a respite but you were halfway to your checkpoint point. You picked up the pace, challenging him to keep up from behind. 
Bucky caught up to you and gestured to your foot, “ Your shoe is untied, angel,” he panted out.
You furrowed your eyebrows and glanced at your feet, breaking your stride. “ Well, I guess we can take a break now,” Bucky said as he came to a stop.
You smiled, “ You freaking liar!”
Bucky holds up his hands as if he was innocent. “ Don’t hate me just because you stopped, beautiful.”
You rolled your eyes and leaned against the rails of a bridge you so conveniently stopped at.
“ What do you wanna do for dinner?”, you asked Bucky, wiping the sweat from your forehead.
“Anything you want, I want, angel.”
You asked him everytime and every time he gave the same response.  He always wants what you want. “ Then let’s get Peruvian food, I could kill for lomo right now.” 
Bucky chuckled to himself, like he had something to say. “ Do you not want lomo, Buck?”
“ That’s fine, angel, just..” he trailed off. “ At least this dinner won’t have a side of tension.”
Bucky alluded to a dinner you had with your other friend Steve Rogers, and his significant other, Lililian. Steve isn't the one to argue in public, but his girlfriend kept picking fights. You and Bucky would attempt to dissolve the tense atmosphere, but it always seemed to thicken again.
“ Yeah, I couldn't imagine going through all the drama they’re going through. Steve looked like he wanted to explode,” you recalled.
He nodded his head. “ I think Steve needs someone less…in your face, you know?”
“Elaborate.”
“ Steve has a … strong personality, angel. He needs someone to soothe rather than excite.”
“So what, he needs someone to tame his inner alpha?,” you quipped. 
Bucky chuckled and looked at you. After a pause, he said, " You know, we wouldn't be like that.” 
You raisd an eyebrow, standing up straight, “ Like what?”
“ Complicated. If we were together, it would just be me and you, plus together.”
Your stomach fluttered. The notion of dating Bucky wasn't completely foreign to you. Bucky was an attractive person, inside and out. It was something about the way he looks at someone, the way he looked at you, that you knew you could trust him with the darkest parts of yourself. His huge fucking arms were always open if you needed a hug, and his beautiful blue eyes were always on you.
But if Bucky Barnes was anything, he was a player. He knew how to play a woman ( or man) like a finely tuned instrument, and make them melt into his hands. 
Bucky Barnes didn’t date. Bucky Barnes didn’t settle down. He thrived in spontaneity. 
You shook your head, “ We’re friends, Jamie.”
“ But I want more. I want more of you, angel. You’re the first person on my mind when I wake up, and the last thing before I go to bed. I can’t go a day without you. Would it really be that much of a difference if we were together?”
He spoke with so much conviction that you almost trusted him.
“ Bucky , ever since I met you, you’ve always been a player,” you explained. “ We have the perfect relationship and I don't wanna lose you just because you wanna try something new.”
You could have slapped him and Bucky still wouldn't have looked so shocked. His expression makes your heart drop into your stomach. 
“ What the hell is that supposed to mean?” he countered.
“ You get bored easily,” you crossed your arms. “ If we started dating you would get bored of me, then we would break up and our relationship would never be the same.”
“ We’re friends, Bucky,” you reiterated. “ You can have as many boyfriends and girlfriends you want, and we can still be best friends.”
Usually you could tell what mood Bucky was in. He had a “ I’m Hangry” glare and a “ I’m tired of this bullshit “ glare. You couldn't make out what he was feeling.
“ I don't feel like Peruvian food today,” he uttered “ Let me walk you to your car.”
“Are we good, Jamie?” 
“ We’re good, (Y/N).
He didn't call you angel, or beautiful, or any of the other pet names he would call you. Bucky didn't give you a kiss on the cheek and tell you to drive safe once you got in your car. The feeling of hurting him weighed heavy on your chest, but the relief of speaking your truth was liberating. 
Maybe you made a mistake, telling Bucky you didn't trust him with your heart.
No, it’s for the better. 
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Toupée Time with Wade
You had no idea how you’d gotten roped into this, but here you were, standing in the middle of a wig shop with Wade, as he examined a display of toupées with a seriousness that would make anyone think you were choosing an engagement ring.
“So, what do you think?” Wade asked, holding up a particularly ridiculous blond toupée that looked like it belonged on a Ken doll from the 80s.
You couldn’t help but snicker. “Wade, I don’t think this one is you.”
“Not me?” Wade gasped dramatically, placing a hand over his chest. “Sweetheart, I’ve always thought of myself as a blonde bombshell just waiting to be unleashed on the world.”
You shook your head, trying to hold back your laughter. “It’s not really the color, Wade. It’s more… everything else.”
Wade squinted at the toupée as if it had personally offended him. “Yeah, you’re right. It’s too ‘Brad Pitt in Legends of the Fall,’ and not enough ‘Brad Pitt in Fury.’”
“You know, you don’t have to get a toupée,” you offered gently, knowing that beneath all the jokes and bravado, Wade was more self-conscious about his appearance than he let on. “You look great just the way you are.”
“Aw, shucks, you’re gonna make me blush,” Wade replied, but you could see a glimmer of something real in his eyes. “But a guy’s gotta keep his options open, right? Maybe I want to channel my inner Fabio someday.”
You gave him a soft smile. “Then we’ll find the perfect one. But it’s gotta be something that screams ‘Wade Wilson,’ not ‘Bad Movie Villain.’”
He snorted. “You really know how to flatter a guy, don’t you?”
Wade turned back to the display, this time picking up a sleek, black toupée that looked like it had been stolen from a ’50s crooner. He placed it on his head, adjusting it with precision before spinning around to face you.
“Well?” he asked, striking a pose that was a mixture of Elvis and pure Deadpool absurdity. “What do you think, doll? Am I ready to serenade you under the moonlight, or should I just stick to killing bad guys?”
You bit your lip, trying to keep a straight face. “I think you look like you’re about to sell me a used car.”
“Ouch, tough crowd!” Wade chuckled, taking off the toupée and tossing it back onto the display. “Alright, alright, I see where you’re going with this. Let’s try something a little less… sleazy.”
He moved further down the aisle, his eyes scanning the rows of wigs and toupées until he found one that seemed to catch his interest. It was a simple, short style—brown, a little tousled, nothing too flashy. Wade picked it up carefully, almost reverently, and looked at you with an uncharacteristically serious expression.
“Hey, what about this one?” he asked, his voice softer now, as if he wasn’t quite sure how you’d react.
You walked over to him, studying the toupée and imagining it on him. It wasn’t flashy or over-the-top; it was just… normal. It reminded you of what Wade might have looked like before everything—the experiments, the scars, the trauma.
“I think it’s perfect,” you said sincerely, meeting his eyes. “You’d look really good with it, Wade.”
Wade blinked, a flicker of vulnerability passing through his eyes before he quickly covered it up with a smirk. “Well, let’s see if the ol’ moneymaker agrees with you.”
He slipped the toupée on, adjusting it in front of the mirror. For a moment, he just stared at himself, tilting his head this way and that, as if he wasn’t quite sure who was looking back at him.
“You know,” Wade said after a long pause, his voice unusually thoughtful, “I kinda like it. Makes me look almost… normal. Whatever that means.”
You smiled, stepping closer to him. “You don’t need to be ‘normal,’ Wade. You’re amazing just the way you are. But if this makes you happy, then I’m all for it.”
Wade turned to look at you, the mask of bravado slipping just enough for you to see the gratitude in his eyes. “You know, you’re not half bad at this emotional support stuff. Almost makes me want to buy you something shiny.”
You laughed, lightly punching his arm. “Just having you around is enough for me, Wade. But if you’re offering, I’ve always wanted one of those giant lollipops they sell at the candy store.”
Wade grinned, the playful spark returning to his eyes. “Done. But only if you agree to help me pick out a name for this bad boy,” he said, gesturing to the toupée.
“A name?”
“Absolutely. Every great hairpiece needs a name. I’m thinking something classic, like… Tony. Or maybe Leonard.”
You rolled your eyes, but your smile didn’t fade. “How about something a little more… unique? Like… Sir Fluffington the First.”
Wade’s eyes lit up. “You, my dear, are a genius. Sir Fluffington it is!”
As you both walked toward the counter to pay, Wade wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. “You know, if I’m being honest, this was actually kinda fun. Who knew shopping for toupées could be so therapeutic?”
You leaned into him, feeling the warmth of his presence, and smiled. “Anytime, Wade. Anytime.”
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pt XVI good omens season 2 (still not traumatic) episode 3 EDINBURGH
HELLO IT'S ME IT'S THE OFFICIAL GOOD OMENS MASCOT WHY DO I STILL KEEP INTRODUCING MYSELF IDK. If you don't know who I am, thank God and Satan for their mercy and flee. Also, the day after I post this, I'll be watching the last three episodes on livestream for the first time so. You know. I'm hyped on the energy of this being my last day not enveloped in tears. Take the summary:
Before the episode starts, someone asks why Crowley said in the last episode that Aziraphale couldn't fall because look at him, all angelic when Crowley looked the same as starmaker. I reply that "Crowley thinks he deserved it, he sees Azi as something beautiful and untouched while he probably sees himself as idk marked in some way so god kicked him down."
I am told that I am learning too fast to weaponise the narrative to induce angst. So then I say oh, I go too fast for you. Tears ensue.
The episode begins! Everyone shrieks about Edinburgh, David Tennant, how it is their favourite episode, and SCOTTISH CROWLEY.
We open with lesbians being gay, and then Muriel enters as Inspector Constable! They are very sweet and very determined to do their job right, and they are adopted by Crowley and Aziraphale just like Jim.
Crowley sits on Aziraphale's chair's arm. The maggots all swoon.
Fine, I also swooned.
Aziraphale gaslight-gatekeep-girlboss-mansplain-manipulate-manwhores his way into getting Crowley to give him the Bentley keys (BOUNDARIES. BOUNDARIES.).
WHAT PLENTY OF USE DO BOTH OF YOU GET OUT OF THE BOOKSHOP?
The really ineffable plan is whatever the fuck was happening in Aziraphale's brain when he somehow went from London to Edinburgh via Loch Ness (check the map) and then proceeded to disguise himself as a detective who pretends to be a journalist.
Crowley slays in sleeve garters and a cardigan keeping house in the bookshop meanwhile, does not sell books, instead cleans with Jimbriel and periodically yeets book stacks into corners when distracted.
Aziraphale reads his old diary entries about Crowley, a (6000+) 13 year old with a crush.
MINISODE MINISODE. They are in Edinburgh during the mid 1800s. Victorian outfits, check. Scottish Crowley, check. Capitalist Karen Aziraphale, che-wait what.
Huh. Well. There's a wee bit of body snatchin' going on, to sell to doctors for medical research because there aren't enough murderers, and to make enough money to survive.
Aziraphale channels his inner capitalist judgemental Karen and ruins that plan, come on Aziraphale you have religious trauma but you're better than this, and long story short, Wee Morag dies after Aziraphale realises his error, her friend Elspeth has to sell her corpse for pennies, and is about to commit suicide with laudanum. Azi, oh god. I'm glad you underwent character development at least.
NOW CROWLEY HERE SLAYS. I KNOW THIS IS AZIRAPHALE'S PERSPECTIVE AND IS BIASED. BUT WITH THIS POV, CROWLEY SLAYS.
He calmly educates Aziraphale about how his whole "the poor have more opportunities and you shouldn't give them money or they'll lose the virtue of poverty" is absolute bullshit, and he does this understanding Aziraphale's situation and not losing his temper.
The framing. The framing of the shot when they see Wee Morag and Elspeth sitting down on a step and explaining their situation. Aziraphale stands above, bustling with righteousness, and judges them. Crowley sits down. He sits down next to them, rather than taking the high ground. He meets them where they are and empathises. It is the fact that he is fallen and damned that makes him behave really divine and sorry I wrote a whole hymn on him have it I'll stop rambling just know I love him.
I think his amusement is a facade so hell won't think he's genuinely being good. I think he's morally grey and incredibly brave and kind.
When Elspeth is bouta kill herself with the laudanum, Crowley grabs it and drinks it himself, and grows tiny and then huge, absolutely high off his head. David Tennant takes the opportunity to travel Scotland from east to west in terms of accent variety.
He gives us the good message of NO DYIN'. NO MORE DYIN'. IT'S NOT ON. And then forces Aziraphale (who doesn't want to ruin her virtuous poverty) to give the girl all the guineas he has in his pocket, and tells her to go off and start a farm or something. BUT NOT JUST PRETENDY GOOD, BE PROPERLY GOOD.
He then gets pulled into hell. To be punished for this. Aziraphale is frightened and heartbroken for him, looking around desperately, and we find out that Crowley didn't meet him for a while after. And later he wanted holy water. To protect himself? He got punished by hell. For how long? The whole month in between the incident and the diary entry? There can't be anyone better at punishment and cruelty than hell.
Sorry I'm just screaming here.
Never mind fuck I started this summary really happy and bouncy and listening to a dance playlist. Dionysus by BTS and Italian pop is still playing and now I'm crying.
Is this the natural progression. Fuck I'm crying. Sorry guys something else happens with Aziraphale politely talking to a phone and Crowley smiling really beautifully while unsuccessfully trying to manipulate two lesbians into a relationship and something about a visit I don't care everyone's being morally dubious as usual and then lovely Scottish music outro I CAN'T FUCKING ELABORATE I'M SITTING HERE CRYING OVER CROWLEY.
right summary done, time to go sob, lmao i thought i wouldn't cry today over good omens HAHAHAHA still not traumatic eh HAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
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Afterlight
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-in which you're the ex of an infamous baseball star, Ken Sato. Months later after the confusing breakup, he showed up in front of your home, begging for you. All of it in his vulnerable and drunken state.
words: 2,219 tags: second chance
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The cold, harsh breeze had brushed on your skin, urging your body hairs to stand in itself. No warmth to reach out to or comfort you. You winced, eyes closed and contemplating if it's time to retreat to the warmth of your home. At least the warmth of the electronics gave. You stood up, decisions made in your mind, holding the railing of your balcony as you gaze at the sea of glowing orbs, how each one –despite their difference– complements one another. Admiring from afar, finding peace in the stillness of these stars.
At least these wouldn't suddenly disappear.
A smile tug on your mouth's corner, lips parting, eyes gawking at the sight you perceive as nothing but perfection.
Will I ever shine as brightly?
Your chest rises and falls as you sigh, a hopeful and wishful sigh. Well to be fair, someone told you that you did. You shone like a piece of priceless kind of diamond he said, a star or better yet, a constellation.
“Hey, Kenji. Babe” a mellow voice, tone laced with love and affection, called out to a boy –his hair disheveled from all the training– who turned his head to his lover in response.
“Yes, baby?” his voice contrast to the woman, it was husky and, the tone was reciprocated. A slight pudgy corner formed on his under eye as he smiled, anticipating what she was going to say. Her hand found its place on his chest, the moonlight bathing the two. She looked at him as if he's the sun himself, so blinding yet irresistible.
“Do you think..” her eyes shifted to the dark sky, shining orbs adorning the vast space. “... I shine like those stars?” his head tilted closer to her, followed by a tender kiss on her forehead. She turned her gaze back to her lover, eager to hear his voice, his words.
“Of course you do, sweetheart. Just like the stars, you shine too.” a soft smile adorns his face, words being chosen with care. “Remember when I was struggling with …you know what” for a split second, his face and demeanor falls. “You helped me out of that dark place. You… you light my way, made me feel alive again, y'know? Like a…constellation. When I look at you, I find meaning. ” a chaste kiss of understandment was placed on his delicate, plump lips, two fools in love smiling into the kiss.
You feel your heart swell at the sweet memory. A sigh slipped out of your mouth again, this time a heavy and dejected one.
Don't dwell on the past.
You reminded, though more like a scold, yourself. You promised yourself. To be a person that could stand alone with conviction, to be self-reliant. Yes, you promised so you shall uphold it. Unlike him, you're not the type to break a promise, right?
The breeze brushes your body once again, pulling your mind back to your body. An incoherent mutter of “I should sleep” encourages your body to retreat, putting one foot inside and soon the other. You turn around to lock the door of your balcony but just as you reach the lock, a loud bang from outside is what you heard, followed by a voice you last heard from a television you abruptly switch channels.
“... Y/n..”
Your eyes seek the source and lo and behold, there he was. "Stupid asshole" your inner voice spat with fury. Ignoring the displeasing clamor outside, you switch the lock to on, and turn to sit at the comfort of your living room. Planning to sleep there for the hectic schedule you have to wake up early for.
Not a minute has passed and the incessant sound of the gate's buzzer rang out loud in the, now disturbed, comfort of your home. You brow furrows, lips forming a pout, as you try to further ignore it but only such a person could endure that much annoyance. Displeased and irate, the sound of heavy stomps vibrate in your room and to the gate. As you stopped on your tracks, a breath for needed relief slipped past your lips, ruminating on what to say to the one hell of a stubborn man outside. Another buzz was the tipping point so you begrudgingly opened the door, the weight of the man falling into your arms.
“I’m…sh..sorry. hic I-I didn't want to…it…mistake” his words are slurred, almost like a mumble. The sickly-sweet scent of alcohol assaults your nose, making your stomach churn in revulsion.
“All this… responsibility stuff. Being a hero then- It- it just..I didn't want you to leave. ”
He lifted his head upwards, looking at you with glossy eyes, so full of regret, so pained. Lips parting to mumble a muddled “I miss you”s and “I’m sorry”s. Your gaze landed at the man before you, disbelief and annoyance painted your face. Still somehow, just a tiny part of you pity him, wanting to take him in your arms once again, whisper sweet promises and tell him it's okay, that it's going to be fine, that you still love him.
But you no longer do, right?
You shut your eyes for a moment and think. Soon, you started dragging the heavy weight of the man into your humble home, and at last, dropping him at the sofa capriciously. His face contorted in inebriated sorrow. Tear stains glistened under the electric light, leaving evidence on his face and shirt as his lips are pulled together in a frown. The sofa dips as you sat, resting your arms atop. He clings to you, arms locking around your waist which kept you from leaving, his disgruntled sobs muffled by your nightgown as he buried his face atop of your collar bone. Muttering about how his heart aches for your warmth, how since you left, every night feels like the stars had hidden itself. How every morning, the sun is no longer there to welcome him. How cold it is for each and every second of his existence.
How his world feels so empty without you
Despite sounding like muddled pleas to you, that part of your brain screams to your body to just embrace him and perhaps, give him a chance. And that’s what exactly your body did, rebelling to what the usual rational you would do. Well, if you were being rational, you wouldn’t let him in, you would've called his friend – if he has one– or his dad or just whoever, but you did… so why? This time, you can’t comprehend or at least make an assumption that would satisfy nor comfort you.
With doubt and whatever paradoxical emotions you’re feeling right now, your mind fogs. Tears just tethering and waiting to fall out and soon they do. The waterworks overtaking you two and the overwhelming feeling of everything that had amounted to this situation, leading to you falling asleep in each other’s arms.
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Ugh...
You groan, feeling some kind of pain in your eye when something bright and gleaming pierced through. As your eyelids flutter open, you feel the consequences of last night. A back pain from sleeping upright and an ache pulsating in your neck. Soon, you find the sleeping figure of your ex, his hair pointing in different directions, akin to a chicken's nest. By instinct, your index finger nudges his cheek, poking the soft honey toned skin of his, an airy giggle vibrating in your chest.
“.. mmhm..” the man mumbled before you, his eyelids slowly opening, only to open his eyes and have his vision laying on your pelvic area. His body jumped in complete surprise. It's not like he's unfamiliar with the view but to wake up and it being the first thing he see, he felt like he just committed a sin befitting of a death sentence.
As he sat upright, facing you, his arms were in a square shape, his right covering his eyes.
“I-I'm sorry! Oh god- shit- uh, I didn't mean to-” you shut him up with your index finger pressing to his plump lips. You relax your brow as you stare at him, trying to ease him up. His gaze shifted from being worried to confused, tilting his head like one of those dogs. Relaxing his palms on the soft, velvet couch.
“Let's just… have closure, Kenji. ” you uttered, demanding and firm. He kept quiet as you paused.
“Kenji.. Why uh… What happened back then? I just don't understand. It was just so sudden. ”
Your brows knit together, eyes getting glossy as your mind replayed that memory and trying to fill those missing pieces of why.
As Kenji try to explain, you press harder to his lips. “Let me speak first. I just want to let this all out, please… kenji” your tone was soft and persistent, he only nods slowly in response.
“Since we were just classmates in college, you confessed to me everyday. Yes, I know I doubted you and took it as a joke at first because it sounded like one, and hell! You use that tone to every girl that tried to cling to you. And when we started dating, you always try to act fine and all! I felt close to you but you…you felt far to me.” a tear ran down your cheeks, the salty taste reaching your lips. Kenji brings his hands close to you and caress it –as if you’re a delicate statue, made to be worshiped, not damaged– and wiping it away.
A treble in your throat present.
“Don't get me wrong, I know you did love me. I never once doubted your love. I feel it everytime we were together…when we were still dating. And that's the problem, you see? Only when you're with me I feel your love. The moment you leave or go to your practices!.. There was no us. You would go on days without contact, only to comeback then promise something then break them again.. It’s..hic… It's tiring, Kenji” your hands fall to your lap and your vision gets blurry. An inkling of pain circulating in your heart.
“All I ask of you is to allow me to be your comfort. I told you- I-.. You don't need to run away. Just… just run to me and I'll comfort you. Isn't that what partners are for?” your gaze meets his, searching for acknowledgement, only to see him drowned with guilt, ambivalent thoughts constricting his actions.
You took a breath for a second, composing your words once again. “...When it was our anniversary, you promised me. You said it was going to be the last time you run away. The last time you be an asshole. The last time you keep me far away...”
“Then just a few months later, you broke up with me on the phone! and the day after, I fucking see the news that you were in japan…And you-...you were smiling” you hic, speaking slow and bitter.
That day, you felt abandoned, desolate, and in complete utter disarray. You can't think why. He told you- He promised! How one day, when the time feels right, when stability is present, you two would one day stand before each other, the serene blue ocean, a row of people close to the both of you, would witness the sacred pledge of the undying love for one another. In pleasure or pain. In sickness or health.
“Even if death do us apart.”
he spoke softly, tracing the promise that hung on the necklace you gave each other on your anniversary.
That familiar pang stilled in your heart, drilling itself deeper and deeper until all that's left is a hollow hole where sorrow echoed. That very night, your pained cries filled the sickening silence he left in the house- no, home you built together. Now, that place is nothing more than an evidence of your past, a testimony of what was once.
Disgruntled sobs cut the silence, staggering in irregular patterns as a result of trying to hold it in. You see Kenji, head hanging low and hands covering the source of the sobs, breathing but not how he usually would, it was abnormal. His irises flickering from looking at you and to anywhere, hesitancy pooling in those eyes of his, tears making it shine like the galaxy, like the universe itself. Lips just barely parting from time to time to let out a few words, only to close for a needed quick breath.
By the time you saw him enter that state, your arms already found their way to embrace him once again. Soon, one hand covered his eyes, the other clasped his hand to let him sync to your heartbeat. Breathe ragged, to slow and steady. Your mouth makes a whirring noise, him trying to match your rhythm and soon he does.
“I-I'm sorry… I… I still love you so p-please, Y/n. Take me back, please.” lips quiver as he spoke, hands firmly close to you.
With your heart so fragile for him, how can you say no?
“Just… Be better. And stop being acting like an asshole. ”
A kiss was pressed onto your lips, full of warmth, full of deepened affinity. Just two hearts beating in sync, healing and anticipating for a better future.
In love and once again,
Hopeful.
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After 2 months of being in and out of sickness, I finally got the chance to post it. I had finished this actually a month ago but migraines been hitting the shit out of me so yeah, everything totally went well. Man, is this the fanfic writer's curse ?I was also quite worried that this might seem drag out and way too extra (especially on the thoughts of y/n, I want to show inner turmoil) Also hopefully, I conveyed Kenji's panic attack and lack of proper communication well, while Y/n being the says too much and think too much. I was originally gonna delete this cuz of fear nd anxiety but here we go( ´・ω・)
All constructive criticism is welcome and appreciated. Thank you for reading my first ever posted fic, stardust! (❁´◡`❁)
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leclerc-s · 6 months
Text
snow angel - track six
series masterlist // previous // next
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liked by carlossainz55, landonorris, maggielindemann and others
maia_bennett and we don't talk shit about you on the internet...
tagged: landonorris, carlossainz55
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user1 oh my god is she for real?
landonorris pretty girl 🧡
↳ maia_bennett pretty boy 🧡
user2 this has got to be some sort of joke, right?
lilymhe lol.
↳ user3 this is the most threatening lol i've ever see. period and everything.
alex_albon LMFAOOOOOO
↳ user4 most unserious driver on the grid.
↳ user5 we don't talk about alex's chaos enough
francesca.cgomes see this caption would work if we didn't all know what carlos and lando did in the spanish media.
↳ user6 SPEAK THE TRUTH KIKA!!
user7 you've got to be fucking kidding me...
user8 oh no. honey this isn't the flex you think it is.
luisinhaoliveira99 oh sweetie...
user9 i pray you're ready for the shit storm that is about to hit you.
alex_albon LMFAOOOOOOOOO!!!!!
user has turned off comments
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liked by luisinhaoliveira99, maxverstappen1, yukitsunoda0511 and others
rheareynolds "but for what it's worth, he's her problem now."
tagged: luisinhaoliveira99, maia_bennett, landonorris
user10 MOTHER!! MOTHER IS MOTHERING Y'ALL!!
user11 oh, she's so cunty and i love that.
lilymhe everyday i am grateful i live on the same earth as rhea reynolds.
↳ rheareynolds oh lily, you sure know how to make a girl blush.
luisinhaoliveira99 oh girl, i fucking love you.
↳ rheareynolds baby, i fucking love you 😘. no one show this to mick!
↳ mickschumacher this is a public instagram comment section...
↳ rheareynolds LOVE YOU TOO BABE 💙!
maxverstappen1 see, i can't tell if those are lyrics or someone told you that but either way, YOU ATE THAT SHIT UP!!
↳ rheareynolds why thank you maximilian.
↳ maxverstappen1 i'll let it slide, just this once.
georgerussell63 SHE CAME TO SERVE!!
↳ rheareynolds CHANNELED MY INNER RUSSELL GEORGE FOR THIS PHOTOSHOOT!!
francesca.cgomes ATE AND LEFT NO CRUMBS!
↳ rheareynolds I HAD THE BEST TEACHER!
user12 oh she's so unhinged and i fucking love that shit.
oscarpiastri i just heard the most unholy screech come from the dining hall. target has been reached.
↳ rheareynolds good. he deserves this and much worse.
logansargeant YES QUEEN!! SERVING CUNT!!
↳ rheareynolds LOGIE! THANK YOU! ❤️
yukitsunoda0511 my offer still stands.
↳ rheareynolds no yuki, you are not biting his ankles while pierre holds him down.
↳ pierregasly BOO!! LET US TAKE HIM DOWN!!!
maia_bennett real mature rhea. real mature.
↳ rheareynolds oh honey, we haven't even scratched the surface.
charles_leclerc THAT'S MY BESTIE!!
↳ rheareynolds what an iconic duo, regina george and lightning mcqueen.
alex_albon REGINA GEORGE CAME TO GAG LANDO NO WINS!
↳ rheareynolds albono, i think you gagged him even more with the no wins.
maxfretwell let be known that i had no idea what was going on. i just thought she was your best friend.
↳ rheareynolds no it's okay maxie, i don't blame you for having a shitty best friend.
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pierre gasly added one person
kika gomes i can't believe i'm saying this but what the hell guys? why wasn't i added sooner??
rhea reynolds you're the only sane one.
lily muni he if the loser shows up with her can i fight him??
yuki tsunoda i'll help! daniel ricciardo you two are so violent.
esteban ocon when mick said lando had cheated on you with your childhood best friend, i didn't think he meant maia, who knew you two were together. and constantly hung out together with you two.
mick schumacher i told you guys it was bad!
oscar piastri ...
alex albon WHAT DO YOU KNOW PIASTRI?? oscar piastri she's been to every single race this year... the girl he showed up with in bahrain was a fake girlfriend. he's been dating her for months. oscar piastri and i learned that every time lando said he was hanging out with carlos, he was with her. don't ask how i learned.
rhea reynolds THAT MOTHER FUCKER!!
rhea reynolds oh he's fucking lucky i could go to jail for murder.
rhea reynolds i had a different song planned to be the next single but i changed my fucking mind. fuck lando norris, fuck carlos sainz, and fuck maia bennett. i hope they enjoy their little corner in hell.
lily muni he oh regina george has not come to play.
george russell i think you mean leighton murray did not come to play.
lewis hamilton i have you all muted for a reason but please, make him miserable. it's the least he deserves.
rhea reynolds oh my manager is about to be so pissed at me but what lewis hamilton says goes.
pierre gasly BURN THE BITCH RHEA!
yuki tsunoda I'M GOING TO HIS FUCKING ANKLES!
daniel ricciardo GET HIS FUCKING ASS!!
kika gomes YOU DESTROY THAT MAN RHEA!
logan sargeant WE WILL DESTROY HIS FUCKING PEACE!
lance stroll to quote yuki, "we ride at dawn fuckers"
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logan sargeant SHE WENT STRAIGHT FOR THE JUGULAR!
alex albon i am in awe of you rhea reynolds.
lewis hamilton i think you've outdone yourself rhea.
lily muni he marry me. forget alex and mick. marry me.
kika gomes no! marry me! rhea reynolds fuck it, we'll marry each other. throuple all the way.
mick schumacher trust me. it gets worse.
charles leclerc HOW MUCH MORE WORSE COULD IT POSSIBLY GET?
mick schumacher think like dear john by taylor
lily muni he oh shit. it's that bad?
max verstappen WHATEVER I GET TO MAKE HIM FUCKING MISERABLE!
yuki tsunoda FUCK YEAH! I'M BITING ANKLES BITCHES
oscar piastri OSCAR PIASTRI REPORTING FOR DUTY!!
kika gomes that man will never know peace as long as we live
pierre gasly he hasn't known peace since december 2021
kika gomes good, then we're doing our job as her friends.
oscar piastri there is nothing i enjoy more than slowly torturing my teammate
daniel ricciardo chaotic aussies and mclaren. something they can never get away from.
logan sargeant listen, if we host a listening party, at the same time, in different garages. he can't really shit on any of us.
max verstappen so what you mean is, all of us play tummy hurts, on a loop to annoy him?
charles leclerc SIGN ME THE FUCK UP! ANYTHING TO ANNOY HIM AND HIS PARTNERS IN CRIME!
lance stroll I'M IN! FERNANDO'S IN TOO!!
rhea reynolds i seriously love you guys.
lily muni he rhea, baby, we love you too.
oscar piastri i enjoy chaos. we aren't quite at the love phase rhea.
rhea reynolds oh fuck you swimp.
logan sargeant SWIMP!!
oscar piastri OH FUCK OFF!
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¡leclerc-s speaks! no cause if there was no more drama there this story would end so much sooner and we don't want that yet.
¡disclaimer! this is in no way making assumptions about the people involved in this story, this is all fake. it is a fanfiction please don't take any of what is said seriously. this is all for entertainment purposes and as a creative outlet for me. enjoy!
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cera-writes · 4 months
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Nightcrawler with an SO who can split herself into different emotions with each emotion having a different power. Maybe the emotions are running rampant and causing mischief and Kurt is the only person who can wrangle them in.
Emotional Rampage
A/N: this was a cute request! Sorry it took me a while to get it written for you <3
Pairing: Kurt Wagner x reader
Tags: reader-insert, fluff, angst, emotional turmoil, inner demons, pet names, established relationship, endearments
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Nightcrawler materialized in a kitchen bathed in the dimly dark sheen of Fear's shadow manipulation. Dishes clattered as Sullen slammed a cabinet door shut. Overhead, Joy buzzed like a rogue wasp, leaving a sonic trail.
This was Tuesday.
"Alright, alright," Kurt held his hands up, teleporting a plate out of Sullen's path. "Let's calm down, everyone. Was ist los?
Fear flickered, casting distorted shadows of Kurt's normally cheerful grin. "Something's wrong, Kurt. I don't like it."
Joy, a blur of pink energy, zipped around the room. "But we don't know what it is! That's the problem!"
Sullen, radiating a low rumble of disapproval, crossed their arms. "We need to find it. Now."
Kurt sighed. "Ich verstehe, but causing a scene won't help. Tell me what's bothering you."
Silence. Fear dimmed, then flickered again. "It's… a feeling. Something dark approaching."
Joy buzzed impatiently. "Exactly! But without knowing what 'it' is, we can't stop it!"
Kurt, ever the mediator, took a deep breath. "Alright. How about this? We work together. Fear, show me what you sense. Joy, scout ahead with your speed. Und Sullen, if we need to throw down, you've got my back, right?"
Hesitation, then a grudging nod from each fragment. Fear pulsed, sending tendrils of shadow that snaked out the window, pointing towards the city's abandoned amusement park. Joy zipped out with a whoosh, leaving a faint pink afterimage. And Sullen, with a grunt, followed Kurt as he bamfed them out of the chaos.
Standing on the creaky Ferris wheel platform, fear tingled on Kurt's skin. Fear's shadows pointed towards a dark, swirling vortex at the center of the park. It pulsed with a malevolent energy.
Joy reported back, a worried frown etched on their normally carefree face. "Kurt, it's like… a negative-me. It feeds on fear."
Suddenly, a shadowy figure materialized, a twisted reflection of Kurt, complete with pointed ears and a barbed tail. "Ah, Nightcrawler. And your precious little emotions. This will be fun."
A fight ensued. Sullen's strength met the dark doppelganger's blows head-on. Joy zipped around, creating sonic disruptions that momentarily weakened the creature. But it was Kurt, teleporting in surprise attacks while Fear channeled courage into him, who finally managed to land a decisive bamf, sending the negative entity back into the vortex.
With the threat neutralized, the fragments drifted back towards you, their forms merging. You sighed, exhaustion clinging to you like a second skin. "Thanks, guys," you whispered, a soft smile gracing your lips.
Kurt pulled you close. "Anytime, Liebchen. Though, maybe next time we could save the demolition for the bad guys?"
A tired giggle escaped you. "Promise." Leaning into his warmth, you watched the city lights twinkle back to life.
Later, curled up on the couch with mugs of hot cocoa, Kurt hesitantly brought up your emotional outburst. "Liebling," he began, his voice laced with concern, "ist alles in Ordnung? These episodes seem to be happening more often."
You snuggled closer, appreciating the gentle way he brushed a stray strand of hair from your face. "I don't know, Kurt. It's like… a tangled mess in here sometimes. All these emotions, and I can't always control them."
Kurt squeezed your hand. "But that's what I love about you, Schatz. You wear your heart on your sleeve, in all its beautiful, chaotic glory. And I'll always be here to help you sort through the mess, together."
His words, laced with his endearing native tongue, warmed you more than the cocoa ever could. You realized that even the most complex emotions couldn't dampen the love you shared, a love that thrived on understanding and a whole lot of patience. With a contented sigh, you leaned your head on his shoulder, the tramclings of the evening forgotten. In Kurt's arms, you knew you had a safe haven, a sanctuary where even your most turbulent emotions could find peace.
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vaguesxrrow · 3 months
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heya! its me, once more, with a possibly oddly specific request, bc yes
i'd like to request a Dean Winchester (again, i know, he has invaded my brain) x reader, where for a case, they need a distraction, and reader ends up dancing to let Dean and Sam get away before running away themself, [oh, btw, established relationship please] and Dean is just
Dean: "they can dance too?! they're awesome"
Sam: "yeah, great, dude, but we gotta go"
thank you!!
HELLOO AGAIN !! this was so fun to write as usual. im so glad to have u as one of my 'regulars' btw it makes me feel like a rlly cool coffee shop owner :o
dancing queen - dean winchester/reader
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a/n: hey look ! i've upgraded to titles !
cws: mild innuendos at the end
wc: 768
tags: humour, gender neutral reader (? they call themself feminine titles bc of the song but they/them pronouns are used)
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"dude, seriously?" dean complained as the beginning notes of 'dancing queen' began from sam's phone. "abba!?"
sam rolled his eyes. "they're not bad."
"don't judge, dean," you said. "you can make an exception for dancing queen."
dean grumbled, but settled down at your reprimand. he muttered something sarcastic about this being a 'great soundtrack to kill vamps to', and you giggled at his consternation.
"you should learn to dig the dancing queen, dean," you told him, swaying to the beat and tapping his shoulder in an attempt to liven his mood.
"yeah, dean," sam parroted.
"the only thing i'll be digging is a grave," he deadpanned.
⌦ ---
you were fucked.
you were cornered by three vamps, after yelling at them to divert their attention from the boys to yourself. you felt kind of bad about raiding their nest, because you had learned that they were newly turned. but there was no use reasoning with them now. they wanted your blood.
which is why you were fucked.
sam and dean were looking at you with wide, panicked eyes from behind the three vampires, already having killed the two that were attacking them earlier. dean was still wiping blood off his face.
"uhm." you gulped nervously. “hi.”
your boyfriend and his brother skulked quietly behind, trying to avoid alerting the vamps to their presence a second time. them being them, though, it failed. dean tripped on sam's foot, and they both swore in unison. the monsters whirled around to glare at them, beginning to advance again.
"hey!" you barked at them. they half-turned towards you, as if considering who they should kill first. you needed a distraction so the boys could get away.
one problem, though: you couldn't think of a distraction.
"uhh, shit." you fumbled with your knife, as an idea popped into your mind. a ridiculous idea, but all the just dance you played as a kid had to be for something, right?
and so you began.. dancing. and singing. performing a whole show, really, because hearing sam's hippie music taste was bound to have that effect on people.
"youuu can dance, you can jiiive, having the time of your lii- shit, that's a tricky note - liiiife." you pointed at the vampires, moving your hips and swaying your arms in what you hoped was an accurate copy of the actual moves. you resolutely ignored sam's incredulous gaze and dean's loose jaw, continuing to channel your inner popstar.
"OOOH, see that girl!" you pointed to yourself and mimed an air guitar. okay, this was fun, ignoring the fact that you could die. it was like the dance competitions your parents used to enroll you in, just with judges that would rip you to shreds instead of giving you last place. maybe you should get back into dancing.
from behind the wall of confused vampires, you saw sam tugging dean's arm, murmuring to him about how they 'had to dip, right the fuck now'.
"i was already questioning how [name] agreed to date me, cause look at them, they were badass in that fight, but they can dance too? how awesome is that?" dean hissed back.
you bit back a laugh in favour of belting out the next note and doing the next move. "watch that scene, digging the dancing queen!" you freestyled that part, twirling around.
"yeah, dude, but we still gotta go." sam yanked dean's arm once more, dragging him out and forcing him into a run. you breathed a sigh of relief as they ran out the door.
"hope you enjoyed the show!" you said as you pulled your gun on the vampires, shooting them all in quick succession. you sprinted away, not bothering to check whether they were really dead or not.
when you saw the impala, you slowed to a walk, satisfied that there were no more bloodthirsty monsters chasing you.
dean and sam were engaged in what looked to be a one-sided conversation: dean rambling, and sam staring at his brother with half judgement, half love.
"sammy, i'm telling you, man. a fighter and a dancer?" dean shook his head. "i am one lucky man."
"you enjoy the show?" you asked them as you approached, a bit out of breath.
"hell yeah!" dean exclaimed, giving you a high five and a deep kiss. "that was so cool."
"does that mean you'll start digging the dancing queen?" you teased.
"only if you're the one dancing," he said.
you grinned. "oh, there is so much i could teach you. devil's tango, maybe?" you winked.
sam fake gagged. "okay, gross! i am never playing abba ever again!"
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